The Wolf and the Doe
by BlueEyesXOX
Summary: When a masquerade bonfire is held to celebrate Lord Robb Starks name-day, Emily reluctantly decides to sneak in and enjoy the festivities after much pressure from her friends. She didn't even want to be there in the first place, let alone catch the attention of the very Lord she'd hoped to avoid. Robb/OC
1. I

Quick Author's Note;

So I know I already have another GOT story but I couldn't help but make another one! This one, however, is a Robb/OC. It takes place a good few weeks before the first series starts and is, of course, rated M for safety reasons. Link to OC's appearance is on profile and again I do not own any characters you may recognize except my own OC's. This story does not clash with my other one.

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this fic. Please Review, Fave, or Follow if you can! It would mean a lot. Thanks!

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**Chapter I**

It was a cold day in Winterfell. Then again, it was always a cold day in Winterfell. Emily couldn't remember a time when it hadn't been at least a little cold. They'd had their Summers, but their Summers were nothing like the one's they had in the Capitol - or anywhere else for that matter. Sometimes she even longed for the warmth that was constant across the Narrow Sea. But Emily knew she'd never feel it. Her life was here, in Winterfell, the land of ever-lasting cold. Even when they had warm weather, there was always that small breeze that meant they'd have to wear an extra layer of clothing just to stay warm. It was either that or risk freezing to death, or worse, getting ill. It was easier for those in Winterfell Castle, they had their Maesters and warm beds to ensure they didn't come down with anything. They had beds with fur blankets, large heaths to warm up their rooms, hot springs underneath the Castle to keep it warmed, and a warm breakfast every morning. At least that's what Qetsyiah had told her. She'd told her that compared to their own homes, the Castle seemed bigger than the one in the Capitol itself. Not that they'd ever seen it of course. Their lives were forever bound to Winterfell and their families. It was just the way things were.

Emily brushed through her long brunette curls, braiding two strands back into her hair so that it didn't fall into her face completely. It made working easier. Her father was a pig farmer, her mother a servant in Winterfell Castle, while her brothers, only six and seven years, were too young to do anything. Not that her father hadn't tried. He'd attempted to teach the boys the ways of their farm but they refused to listen, instead deciding that they'd much rather spend their time playing Knights or Warriors. Emily wished to be that young again. To be that age where you were old enough to understand a little, but young enough to still have hope. After many years of seeing nothing but her farm, Winterfell, and the Godswood, she slowly started to realise that getting out just wasn't an option. Unless she was lucky enough to find a wealthy man willing to marry her, there was no getting out for her. But even if she did, it would just be a different kind of entrapment.

She tied the dirty-white apron around her waist and left the bedroom she shared with her two brothers. She looked out of the small window and found her father tending to the pigs, as usual, while her brothers ran around with sticks larger than themselves, most likely playing yet another game. There weren't many jobs around Winterfell for women. The castle was full of handmaiden's and servants, so they didn't need anyone. The only other well-earning job in their small village was the Whore-house. And Emily was grateful that her life hadn't dropped to that level of desperate...not yet anyway. Her tasks were mainly going into the market for bread. With her father being a pig farmer, they rarely ran out of meat, which she supposed was a good thing.

"Emily, where're you going?" Her father, otherwise known as Isaac, asked her.

"I'm going to see Qetsyiah." Emily replied after a moment's hesitation. It was no secret that her father disliked the girl, mainly because she was a lot wilder and free-spirited than Emily could ever hope to be. But she was also a lot more confident and sneaky, and these traits always somehow managed to get them both into trouble. They'd never done anything to result in being seen by Lord and Lady Stark, thank the gods, but it was safe to say that many villagers and occupiers of Winterfell weren't too fond of her friend.

"Shouldn't she be working in the Castle?" Her father asked, though it was more of an irritated mutter towards himself. Emily sighed and rolled her eyes slightly; Playing piggy-in-the-middle with her father and best friend wasn't how she thought her life would've turned out.

"She's not needed today. I promise I'll stay out of trouble." She reassured him, placing one foot at the bottom of the wooden fence and leaning over to peck her fathers cheek. The man smiled at her action but shook his head, knowing full well that her promise would not be kept. Not while she was with Qetsiyah anyway.

"I highly doubt it." He muttered.

Emily smiled and wiggled her fingers as a slight wave before turning and walking the path towards the Winterfell, making sure not to disturb her brothers as she did. She'd disturbed them once, only to tell them that dinner was ready, but it had resulted in her being chased by the two children while they held very long sticks. Emily could only thank the gods that they couldn't run faster than her, or that day would have turned out a lot differently.

As usual, she found Qetsiyah waiting for her at the gates to Winterfell. The girl smiled as Emily approached her and Emily had a small feeling Qetsyiah had something up her sleeve. She knew that smile and she also knew that it usually meant trouble. She couldn't really remember how her and the mischievous red-head had become friends. All she faintly remembered was boys, a running Qetsiyah, falling to the ground, and a throbbing headache that didn't leave for days.

"You came!" Qetsiyah exclaimed happily, throwing her arms around the younger girl. Emily returned the gesture, but with a little less enthusiasm.

"As always." Emily replied, a nervous smile crossing her face. "What are we doing today?"

"I have exciting news, but first we have to wait for Demetrii."

"No need to wait!" The boy himself announced, running up to them. Demetrii had come a long a good few years after Emily had met Qetsiyah. His mother had died when he was only a babe, while his father had decided to grieve by turning to drink. But now it was eighteen years later, and the man was still fond of his drink. Which is why Demetrii spent so much of his time with them.

"So, what was this news?" Emily asked Qetsiyah, crossing her arms to block out the cold. Unlike many of the Castle's occupants, they didn't have long cloaks made of wolf fur to keep them warm, they had to adjust.

"As you know, today is the name-day of our very own Robb Stark," Qetsiyah squealed, a little overdramatically in Emily's opinion. "There will be a feast and masquerade bonfire held tonight at the castle to celebrate-"

"Bonfire? Outside? Qetsiyah it's _freezing _outside, are you sure you didn't mishear something?" Emily cut her off, raising her eyebrows in slight disbelief.

Qetsiyah narrowed her own eyes, but instead of disbelief it was out of annoyance. "_Yes. _I heard correctly I never mishear. Besides, with enough wine and with a large bonfire they're bound to warm up. _Anyway," _She giggled, bringing herself back around to the topic they'd been on. "Only Lords and Ladies have been asked to attend, along with Lord Starks family of course, but we are also going to attend."

Emily's eyes widened considerably at the news. Sneak into the castle to attend a celebration they'd not been invited to? This had to have been Qetsiyah's worst idea yet, and she'd had a _lot _of bad ideas. If they were caught who knew what'd happen? Surely they wouldn't face death for such a silly thing, but they'd be punished none the less. And Emily had a feeling her father would be less than pleased with the news.

"That sounds fun!" Demetrii exclaimed, sharing Qetsiyah's enthusiasm. Emily, however, had other things in mind.

"You're joking? Please tell me you're joking." She pleaded, staring at her best friend with a hopeful look on her face. Surely Qetsiyah couldn't be serious?

"I'm _not _joking. It'll be easy to get in, there'll be so many Lords and Ladies that no one will know who's who!" She said as though she'd come up with the cleverest plan in Westeros.

"And what do we do when we're in? The Starks will know we're not blood-related or nobles." Emily pointed out. Qetsiyah merely smiled in return.

"_I _thought of that. It's a _masquerade _celebration, Emily, all we have to is throw on a well-carved mask to hide our faces and we're safe and sound. We just have to make sure to stay away from the Starks." She explained and Emily had to admit, it was a well thought out plan.

"That is a good idea." Demetrii spoke up, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Yes but what do we wear? I can't exactly go in _this," _Emily threw out, gesturing down to the dark-green dress she now wore. It had a little rip at the bottom and some dirt along the sleeves from where she'd been helping her father.

Qetsiyah stared at her in deep thought before clapping her hands together and smiling. "You can borrow one of my dresses!"

"Um...I think not." Emily replied, earning a childish pout from her friend. While Qetsiyah's dresses were rather pretty, they were also lower cut than Emily would've liked. They were plain, but not so plain that the Starks would question their wealth. Her friend must be well paid for working in the Castle.

"What's wrong with my dresses?" Qetsiyah exclaimed defensively, looking down at the dress she now wore.

"Nothing!" Emily rushed out. The last thing she wanted was to get into yet another stupid argument with her friend. Qetsiyah could be very defensive sometimes, especially when it came to her choice of clothing. "It's just...they're not exactly the kind of dresses I'm used to." She finished, shrugging sheepishly.

"Which is exactly why you should wear it! No one will know it's you!" Her friend replied.

"Again, good idea." Demetrii said. Emily narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance; Would he ever chose her side in a conversation?

"And what would I tell father?" She asked, "He's not exactly going to let me out so late."

Qetsiyah smiled, "You go to sleep like the good little girl that you are. But when your house is sleeping, you'll merely sneak out and meet us here." She said, gesturing to Demetrii.

Emily attempted one last try at getting her stubborn friend to change her mind about this. "Masks?"

"I'll sort that out, ladies, leave it with me." Demetrii spoke before Qetsiyah could, but the girl seemed more than happy with the news.

"Good. So, I'll see you tonight?" Qetsiyah smiled, glancing at the two. Demetrii nodded enthusiastically but Emily tilted her head in worry, something her friend noticed right away. "Emily?"

Emily looked at Qetsiyah, then Demetrii, then back to Qetsiyah. Did she want to go? Yes. But she was scared; Scared that they'd get caught, scared that they'd get punished, scared that her father would be disappointed in her...there were so many reasons not to go. Her heart told her to go but her mind told her to stay home that night, to do what she always did. But despite everything Emily knew there was still that childish part of her that wanted to do what she wasn't supposed to. To break the rules and have fun doing it, and to not care if they were caught or not. It was this part of her that nagged her to say yes to Qetsiyah. And, unfortunately, it was this very part of her that won.

"I suppose I could go." Emily finally agreed. Qetsiyah silently cheered, a little squeak of excitement leaving her mouth. "But not too late, okay?"

"I promise, we'll be home before Sunrise." Qetsiyah told her, pulling her into yet another hug. But even though her friends were excited and happy to be attending, Emily couldn't help but be a little worried. Though another thought crossed her mind; Attending one party couldn't be that bad, could it?


	2. II

**Chapter II**

Emily shivered and crossed her arms tighter against her chest, rubbing up and down with her hands in the hopes she'd warm up. As Qetsiyah had requested, she'd worn her friends dress, snuck out of her home once everyone fell asleep, and was currently waiting outside Winterfell for her two friends. Leaving her home had been the hardest part. After dressing as silently as she could to make sure her brothers didn't wake, she'd sat at her small table and thought about staying home for at least an hour prior to leaving. She'd spent that time inwardly cursing herself for giving in to Qetsiyah...like she always did. Her friend certainly had a way with words and could most likely convince her to leave Winterfell itself if she wished it. Thankfully she hadn't...yet. But in that moment all Emily could think about was the disappointed look her father would give her if they were caught. He'd stare at her with that expression that always had her apologising over and over to him, telling him that she hadn't meant to do it and would never do it again. The only other time he'd given her that look was when Qetsiyah decided to go running through the forest and they'd nearly been attacked by wildling men. Thankfully they hadn't, but only because Lord Stark and his sons had chosen that day to go hunting. Demetrii, Qetsiyah and herself had escaped the sights of their Lords and ran straight home, not quite in the mood to be scolded by their Lord. But then Emily had made the mistake of letting her father know. And ever since then he'd been annoyed at the very mention of Qetsiyah's name.

"Emily!" She jumped and looked up to see Demetrii coming her way, carrying a sack of something that she couldn't see in the dim light. Thankfully Qetsiyah was with him, meaning she wouldn't have to wait around in the cold night for her mischievous best friend.

"You look wonderful in that dress." Qetsiyah gasped, holding Emily at arms-length.

Emily looked down at her clothing and smiled shyly, knowing that if it were day, Qetsiyah would have seen her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. It wasn't often Emily was complimented on her clothing. But she had to admit, she felt rather good in the dress Qetsiyah had given her. The dress itself was a dark brown colour. It tightened just underneath her shoulders leaving them bare and rather cold. It tucked in just underneath her breasts before flaring out slightly, trailing down to her feet, where she wore a pair of thin slippers Qetsiyah had also leant her. Thankfully though, the sleeves were long. So while her shoulders were cold, the rest of her was at least a little warm. The only thing she hadn't changed was her hair. She'd brushed through it of course, but once again tied in her usual braids, letting the rest fall down to her hips in soft waves.

"As do you." Emily told her friend, looking over Qetsiyah's dress. But Qetsiyah always looked beautiful, she always made an effort in her appearance.

"Are you going to spend the evening complimenting each other like old women, or are we going to attend this celebration?" Demetrii asked impatiently as he flashed them a grin.

"Of course." Qetsiyah laughed, rolling her eyes as her and Emily turned to their friend. "Do you have our masks?" She asked. Demetrii, not one to disappoint, dug around the sack he held and drew out three carved masks, handing them over.

Emily looked down at the one she'd been handed and tilted it towards the light of the torches. She didn't know how Demetrii had did it. She didn't know if he'd stolen the masks or crafted them himself - but she was pleased with her own. The mask itself would cover everything except her face from the tip of the nose and downwards. Demetrii had also decorated the masks into a different animal. Her was a doe, she realised. Qetsiyah's had been patterned and carved into a cat-like face, while Demetrii's mask had a long and pointed nose. A bird, Emily assumed. On each mask were two strings to help ensure the masks wouldn't fall from their faces. They couldn't risk it.

"Did you make these?" Qetsiyah asked in awe.

"I did." The man smiled proudly, hands clasped behind his back.

"These are beautiful." Emily agreed, smoothing her fingers over the delicate pattern he'd painted onto hers.

"I know. And while I'd love to hear you both telling me how good my work is, I'd much rather spend my night drinking ale until I eventually pass out from it." Demetrii shrugged, tying on his own mask.

"Try not to flatter yourself Demetrii." Qetsiyah laughed as she and Emily followed suit. "Are we recognizable?"

"I think this may work." Emily finally admitted, noticing just how much the masks covered.

"Finally you agree to something!" Qetsiyah exclaimed in relief, earning an eye roll from her friend.

"Ladies," Demetrii began, stepping between the girls and offering both arms, "Shall we go?" The girls smiled at each other and placed their arms around his.

"We shall." Qetsiyah smiled. And off they went.

It wasn't that long of a walk to the Castle, Emily realised. The small marketplace held inside the walls was completely silent. The occupiers were either sleeping, or some were attending the celebration. And the closer they got towards the Castle, the louder the music became. Emily could hear shouts, laughs, and of course the music. She had a feeling the celebration had started long before they'd even arrived, not that she was surprised of course. Why wouldn't they start the festivities early? They'd most likely started at Sundown. But a small hope arose in Emily's mind. If the celebration had started long before they'd started their way there, then maybe many people would've already turned up, meaning the chances of them being caught would lessen. And, if Emily was being honest with herself, she had a small feeling this night would go better than she thought. They'd sneak in, drink, dance, have fun - then return home before Sunrise. Besides, it was only one night, how bad could things become from just one night?

They eventually reached the Castle. But that was also when Emily's stomach began turning. There were four guards stood at the front gates to the Castle, observing everyone that entered. Emily then realised that she was returning to her rational - and slightly anxious - self. What if the guards asked them for their names? She wouldn't be able to lie, she knew that much. What if they were taken into their Lord for attempting to sneak in? So many nervous questions wracked her brain that she didn't even see how Demetrii merely strolled them right through the gate, with no questions or suspicious glances from the guards themselves.

"Here we are, ladies." Demetrii announced, pulling Emily out of her thoughts. Her eyes widened and she looked back, realising that during her inward rant she hadn't even realised they'd entered the Castle grounds. She immediately let out a sigh of relief

"That was easier than I thought it'd be." Qetsiyah admitted, letting go of Demetrii's arm while Emily did the same.

"I thought they'd catch us." Emily muttered. Though her friends didn't hear her over the loudness of the music.

"That has to be the biggest fire I have ever witnessed." She heard Qetsiyah say. Emily looked up and found herself staring straight into the flames of a large fire. It was much larger than any regular fire she'd seen, at least nine feet high. Many people had already began dancing around the fire, some even dancing with wine goblets in their hands, the wine spilling as they jumped and span.

"I see food...and women." Demetrii grinned, rubbing his hands together excitedly. Emily and Qetsiyah shared a knowing glance.

"Go, drink and whore the night away." Qetsiyah said loudly, earning a chuckle from their friend.

"Oh I will my friend. I will." Was all he replied before leaving them both for the feast and noble women on the other side of the courtyard.

Before Emily could do anything, she felt herself being pulled underneath one of the Castle's ledges. She looked to see Qetsiyah pick up a nearby pitcher and fill two goblets to the brim. The red-haired women then proceeded to pick up both goblets, offering the one in her left hand to Emily herself. Emily, however, politely declined.

"Come on Emily!" Qetsiyah exclaimed in annoyance. "This is your first night away from that dreaded farm and you are going to make the most of it." She then thrust the goblet into Emily's hand and the girl had no choice but to accept it. It was either that or tip the wine all over herself.

"Qetsiyah, I've never drank." Emily admitted, lightly shaking her head. She'd never had the opportunity to drink. Her father hadn't ever been able to afford suck luxuries.

"Which is why you should!" Was Qetsiyah's reply. The girl then proceeded to put her own goblet to her lips and gulp down nearly half of the wine. Emily looked down at her own goblet nervously, lightly swirling the wine around the edge of the goblet. "Drink."

"Qetsiyah-"

"No." Qetsiyah cut her off, shaking her index finger in Emily's direction. "It's one drink, Emily. Nothing bad can come from one drink." She pressed.

Emily rolled her eyes and once again stared down at the goblet, only this time she slowly brought it towards her lips. "One drink." She muttered before letting the red liquid flow into her mouth and down her throat.

~...~...~...~

As the night wore on Emily found herself enjoying the celebration more than she ever thought she would. She danced around the fire, laughed with Qetsiyah who thankfully never left her side, even spoke to a few of the other celebration attendees. However she did begin to notice her rational thought fading, along with her balance. Qetsiyah had made a good point when she'd pointed out that nothing bad could come from one drink. But since Emily had given in and drank the first goblet, she every one after that suddenly filled itself once again. At first she'd paid no mind to it and drank when Qetsiyah handed it to her, but now she realised just how sneaky and cunning her friend was being, even in her drunken stupor. Emily knew she should've stopped drinking the moment she knew Qetsiyah was trying to get her drunk, but she didn't. Instead she let go of all her worries and disappointments for the night. She drank every drink she was handed by her friend and enjoyed herself, while making sure her mask stayed on, along with Qetsiyah's.

After finishing yet another drink, Emily found herself dragged towards the large fire where many nobles were dancing. She smiled at Qetsiyah who grinned sheepishly and the two proceeded to dance. She'd never learnt noble dancing of course, neither had Qetsiyah, but in that moment it didn't matter - nothing mattered. Even those who knew how to dance chose not to, instead everyone did what they wanted. They bounced, swayed, spun and skipped around the fire to the music playing. But it was as she danced along with Qetsiyah, did Emily feel as though she was being watched. At first she ignored it of course, blaming it on her drunken mind. However when it continued, she had to find the source. At first she thought maybe it'd been Demetrii, but then she remembered her friend had gone missing an hour beforehand, a pretty little blonde girl in tow. So she knew it couldn't possibly be him. And as her eyes scanned the many people who'd attended, she eventually found the culprit.

Emily stopped her dancing once her eyes met the ones that were currently looking at her. She didn't know the man, though she couldn't have been sure. He wore a beautiful grey wolf mask that covered almost all of his face, everything from the nostrils down. From his clothing Emily could tell he was noble, she'd never seen someone from her village wearing such fine and expensive looking clothing. From the very few torches that'd been placed outside, she could see that he was tall, taller than her at least, and muscular. But not to the point where he was extremely large and scary. When they locked eyes however, he didn't say anything or make a move towards her. He lifted his own goblet to his lips and took a gulp, his eyes remaining on hers. She noticed two men on either side of him discussing something or other with him, but he paid no attention. And if he did, she couldn't tell.

"Emily!" Thankfully, Qetsiyah pulled Emily out of whatever trance she'd been drawn into. "Are you alright?" Her friend asked her. Emily nervously glanced back to where she'd been looking, only to find that the man had disappeared. His friends, however, were still there.

"Fine," Emily breathed, smiling slightly in relief as she turned back to Qetsiyah. "The drink has gone to my head, I'm afraid." She lied.

"Maybe you should sit down." Qetsiyah suggested, a little worried for her friend.

The song they'd been dancing to changed drastically. Instead of an upbeat song that everyone danced to, a much darker, different type of music began to play. Emily could almost feel the beat of the drums running through her body. Some people left the dance space while many other stayed, some women that'd been watching from the side taking men by the hand and pulling them towards the fire to dance. Clearly, it was a dance many knew well. But since she nor Qetsiyah knew the dance, they turned to leave.

"Leaving so soon?" Emily looked up and her eyes widened slightly while her breath caught in her throat.

"I'm afraid my friend here has had too much wine." Qetsiyah replied, nodding towards Emily.

"Is that so?" The man asked, looking down at Emily. His blue eyes meeting her own. Emily said nothing, choosing to nod in response. "That is disappointing I must say, I was hoping to share this dance M'lady." He told her.

"I'm afraid-"

"She'd love to!" Emily's head shot in Qetsiyah's direction, her eyes wide. "She may be a little dizzy from all this wine but I'm sure she could spare one last dance."

"Qetsiyah," Emily sighed, her tone slightly pleading. Her friend merely smiled and leaned in, making it seem as though she was embracing her friend.

"Dance with him, Emily." She whispered. Qetsiyah then turned to the man who's name they did not know and nodded before leaving them both alone. Emily could only hope that Qetsiyah would at least stay within seeing distance.

"I-I'm afraid I do not know this dance." Emily admitted, moving her eyes away from the stranger to observe the dancers surrounding them. It was safe to say that she did not know this dance, it's style seemed far more intimate and lustful than she was used to.

"I'll teach you." The man reassured, taking Emily's hand in his own.

He moved them a little closer to the fire so that they didn't risk hitting any other couples. Emily swallowed nervously as he brought her closer until they were chest to chest. She'd never been this close to a man that wasn't her father. Emily always told herself that while men could be loving and kind, they could also be cruel and brutish, which is why she made such an effort not to get close to any man that wasn't Demetrii. She'd known him for so long that she trusted him with her life almost. But the man she danced with now? She had no idea what kind of man he was. All she knew was that she'd had more wine than she should have. If she'd have been sober she wouldn't be acting the way she was, letting him put his and her hands wherever he liked. But she couldn't help it. The feeling was new and exciting to her, it intrigued her.

The stranger placed his leg between hers until she was almost straddling it, then leaned forwards slightly as he moved his chest against hers. Emily quickly glanced around her at the couples and followed their movements, moving her own chest against his own as she leaned forward. "Your mask is lovely." He told her.

"As is yours." Emily managed to reply, her stomach in knots.

"You came with Qetsiyah, I presume?" He asked. Emily's eyes widened slightly but before she could utter a reply their movements changed. They both moved back and she quickly followed the movements of those around her, lifting her hand and placing it flat against his as they moved in a circle.

"H-how did you-"

"How did I know?" He finished. Emily nodded and they stopped for a moment, changing the direction of their circling. "I know a servant from my Castle when I see one. Qetsiyah is well known here."

He then pulled his hand away from hers and circled her, running one hand across her chest and around until he stood in front of her once again. Emily could do nothing but hold her breath until she saw his masked face once more. He then took her hand again and quickly spun her before pulling her back to him, her back to his chest. "Why haven't you thrown us out yet?" Emily managed to ask, taking note of the other couples. She watched as the women moved down the males body before coming back up. She took a deep breath before doing the same.

"I have no reason to." Was his reply. He turned her to face him once more, one hand around her waist to dip her low before bringing her back up. "You see that man?" He looked behind her and Emily turned, seeing a young looking man laughing with a few others. "He brings my family their breakfast every morning." Emily turned back to him and he turned her again, her back to his chest. "And that woman with Theon?" He leaned his head forward so that his lips were next to her ear, "She cleans out my sisters' rooms."

"What is your point?" Emily asked, a little irritated. Either he was going to tell Lord Stark about them, or he wasn't, she just wanted him to come out and say it already.

"My point is little doe," He spun her a little quicker this time and she gasped, her hands landing on his shoulders while his rested low on her hips. "I know everyone here...except you."

The song finally ended but the stranger kept her where she was. Their noses almost touching while she was flush against him. "She cleans your sisters rooms, you say?" Emily asked, eyes narrowed in thought. The man grinned and nodded and it was that moment that Emily realised just who it was she was dancing with. He must've seen the look of realisation cross her face.

"So, since it is my name-day, I request that you tell me _your_ name." He said, a little cockier than she'd expected.

"Emily, my Lord." She reluctantly replied. If she wasn't nervous before, then she was now.

"There is no need for formalities, not after that." He gestured to the dance they'd just had and she blushed, looking away shyly. Oh how she prayed for Qetsiyah to come and help her.

"Emily!" As though the gods had heard her prayers, Emily sighed in relief to hear Demetrii's voice. She looked to see him coming her way, carrying an unconscious Qetsiyah in his arms.

"What happened?" Emily immediately asked, looking down at her sleeping friend.

"Too much wine I assume." Demetrii laughed before looking behind her. "My Lord." He greeted, nodding his head as a slight bow. Emily felt annoyance flood her body; How was it that Demetrii knew right away that this was their very Lord, yet she didn't.

Lord Stark nodded his head as well, "You should get her home, she'll feel everything in the morning." He suggested. Demetrii nodded and turned back to Emily.

"Are you coming home?" He asked. Emily nodded as she looked to the skies; They were already turning blue.

"I am."

They both turned to leave and Emily once again found herself face to face with Robb Stark. "I suppose this is farewell?" He asked, though it was more of a statement.

"I suppose so." Emily replied, her stomach still in knots. "I do hope you enjoyed your name-day my Lord." He took her left hand in his right, raising it to his face and pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles. Emily held her breath.

"I enjoy it very much."

"Farewell Lord Stark." She nodded, moving to follow Demetrii.

"I will see you soon, Emily." She swallowed and nodded once more, averting her eyes as she hurried after her friends. He'd surely been joking, hadn't he?


	3. III

**Chapter III**

It'd bee three days since Lord Robb Starks' name-day celebration and, to Emily's relief, she hadn't seen her Lord since. His parting words to her had her on edge for the whole day after, but now she realised that's all they'd been - words. He didn't mean to see her again and she had no intentions of seeing him again. All she wanted was for her life to return to normal. Which is what she'd done the morning after the festivities. She'd woken early in the morning, as usual, although this time feeling slightly nauseous and with a small headache, and dressed in her usual attire. Emily made quick work of hiding Qetsiyah's dress and slippers underneath her bed and hoped her friend would come by soon to claim them. The last thing she wanted was her father, mother, or little brothers to go snooping and find the clothes. They weren't the type to snoop, of course, but one couldn't be too careful.

Thankfully, her mother and father hadn't sensed anything wrong that morning. Emily had a feeling she'd been acting a little stranger than usual. She didn't eat most of her breakfast from fear of being sick, and she'd constantly hid her eyes away from the sun hoping it would ease her headache - it didn't. But they hadn't asked any questions and she wasn't about to tell.

With Qetsiyah busy working in the castle, Emily strolled down the path leading in the castle's direction, wasting the day away. Her best friend just so happened to be clouding her thoughts, though. She hoped Qetsiyah was alright. That night after the celebration she and Demetrii had managed to carry Qetsiyah home to her mother, who they found waiting up for the red-headed girl. Apparently Qetsiyah's mother wasn't as oblivious as her daughter thought. She hadn't said anything to them though, merely opened the door and let them carry Qetsiyah to her bed. Emily knew her friend must've been feeling atrocious that morning, she'd had a lot more to drink than herself and Demetrii combined. Emily just hoped she was alright, she hadn't seen her since that day and found herself growing worried. What if she was a lot worse? What if she was sick? There were so many questions running through her head that she didn't concentrate on her surroundings. Nor did she hear the hurried footsteps making their way towards her...until it was too late.

When a hard body collided with her own and sent her sprawling to the floor, Emily groaned and looked up. In front of her stood Qetsiyah. The girl didn't appear as cheerful or mischievous as she did two days beforehand. Instead she looked scared - terrified even. Her usually perfect hair had fallen out of whatever style she'd had it in, and now stuck to her face. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy, giving Emily the impression that Qetsiyah had been crying. What had happened? She wondered.

"Emily!" Qetsiyah shouted in relief, grabbing hold of her friends hands and pulling her to her feet.

"Qetsiyah, what's-"

"You have to help me." She pleaded. Emily stared at her.

"With what?"

Qetsiyah sobbed and shook her head, staring down at the floor as the tears ran down her cheeks. "I did something...something bad." She whispered. Emily barely caught on to what she'd said, and had to strain her ears just to catch a word.

"What did you do?" Emily asked, her eyes narrowed.

Instead of replying, Qetsiyah reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a very small pouch before handing it to Emily. Emily stared in confusion at her friend, who still said nothing, but nodded towards the pouch as a sign for Emily to look inside - and she did. Emily held out her right hand and opened up the pouch, tilting it over so the contents fell into her hand. But as soon as they did, her eyes widened and her expression turned from worried to horrified. In her hand she held ten gold coins. But that wasn't what scared her, what scared her was the look on Qetsiyah's face.

"Where did you get these?" She asked, holding out the coins.

"I stole them." Qetsiyah finally admitted, covering her face with her hands in shame. Emily's eyes widened in slight disbelief. Never had she ever seen or been told that Qetsiyah had stolen something. Yes her friend was very mischievous and sneaky, but it was harmless for the most part. But stealing? Stealing had a terrible punishment at the end of it.

"How? When? Why?" Emily demanded, the questions falling out of her mouth far quicker than she'd have liked.

"The other night...at the celebration. I was so drunk Emily I didn't mean to-I don't even remember how it happened I don't remember doing it!" Qetsiyah rushed out.

"Qetsiyah, did you steal these from the castle?" Emily asked, terrified of the answer. Her friend looked down once more but Emily couldn't let her avoid the question. "Qetsiyah!" She said loudly, causing Qetsiyah to flinch.

"Yes! I stole them from the Castle!" Her friend shouted back.

Emily sighed and shook her head, looking down at the coins once more. It was just as she'd feared. Qetsiyah hadn't just stolen these coins from a random drunken stranger, she'd stolen them from the Castle; From _their _Lord. The punishment for stealing as far as she knew were lashes; One lash for each item stolen. It was a rather harsh sentence but it kept people from stealing. Until now of course. Qetsiyah had stolen _ten _gold coins, which meant if their Lord found out who it was, he'd be forced to give Qetsiyah ten lashes. Emily knew her friend and she knew that she wouldn't survive ten lashes, she didn't have the strength for it. She'd heard once of a man having to receive eight, and apparently he'd fainted from the intensity of the pain. That may have been a rumour of course but now things were real.

"I found them underneath my bed the other morning, I didn't know what they were at first, I thought I'd just taken them from some stranger. But when I attended the Castle I heard Lady Stark speaking to a servant girl, some golden coins had gone missing from the Castle and they wanted them found. Ten guards have been sent out to search each home, rich or poor, high and low until the coins are found." Qetsiyah explained.

"W-we have to hide them. Do you know where the guards are now?" Emily stuttered, tipping the coins back into the pouch and stuffing it into her own apron pockets.

"Making their way through the village." Qetsiyah replied, wiping away a few stray tears. Emily nodded.

"Okay...okay." She muttered, wiping the sweat from her hands. She wasn't ashamed to admit she was nervous. "I'll keep them with me for the rest of the day. When the guards are done searching homes I'll bring these coins back to you and then you decide what to do with them." She said, trying to think of a plan that wouldn't get them both killed.

Qetsiyah nodded in agreement, happy with the plan she'd thought up. "That sounds good. Thank you, Emily." She said, pulling her into a tight hug. Emily returned her friends embrace but couldn't shake off her worried feeling. She could only pray that the gods were watching out for them.

~...~...~...~

It hadn't even been an hour afterwards that five guards had stopped outside Emily's farmhouse. Three stayed atop their horses while two climbed down, making their way towards her and her father. Her mother was currently at the castle, while her brothers were running around in the field playing. Qetsiyah hadn't gone home after their conversation, she'd come back with Emily who, to her fathers annoyance, had allowed Qetsiyah to stay in her room until the guards had finished their search. It wasn't hard to tell that her friend was terrified. Her hands hadn't stopped shaking and she was whiter than snow. Emily had worried for a moment that Qetsiyah may be sick all over her bedroom floor, but was soon reassured by the red-head that she wasn't feeling ill - just nervous. Not that Emily could blame her of course, no one wanted to face being lashes for theft, least of all her.

As the guards neared Emily felt her heartbeat speed up and her palms begin to sweat; She still carried the coins. She had meant to burry them in the field but the guards had come sooner than she'd have liked, so now it was too late. The only thing she could do was stand still and hope they wouldn't search her.

"Is there a problem?" Her father asked, wiping the dirt away from his hands.

"I'm afraid so. Some gold coins have been stolen from the Castle, we've been commanded by Lord Stark to search every home in Winterfell." One of the guards replied. The other guard had walked straight into their home to begin his search.

"Yes, of course. We have nothing to hide here." Emily's father reassured, standing next to his daughter while they waited for the man to finish.

A few moments later the guard walked out of their house, shaking his head at the guard that stood in front of them. Emily wondered what Qetsiyah was up to inside the house, but shook her questions away a second later; She had more worrying things to think about.

"Nothing, ser." The guard called out. He then turned to Emily, "Your friend looks rather ill." He said, gesturing to the house.

"Something she ate, I suppose." Emily replied, trying her hardest to hide how scared she really was.

"We apologise for wasting your time, carry on." The main guard told her father while the other climbed back on top of his horse.

"Oh it's no problem," Her father assured, waving a hand. "You're just doing your jobs."

Emily didn't want to wait around for them to leave. She turned as soon as the guard told them to carry on. Emily just hoped that Qetsiyah hadn't been sick at the sight of the guard, if she had then Qetsiyah would definitely be the one cleaning it up. But unfortunately for Emily, she didn't manage to get that far.

"Could you both turn out your pockets?" The simple question caused Emily to freeze instantly; She still had the coins.

"Of course." Her father cheerfully agreed. Emily clenched her eyes shut and repeatedly whispered prayers to herself. She hoped that the gods took mercy on her, but apparently her prayers went unanswered.

"You too miss."

If her heart hadn't been beating fast before, then it was now. Her palms seemed abnormally moist from all the sweat and she was sure she had some on her forehead as well. Emily turned to the guards and her father, only to find all three staring at her as they waited patiently. It was in that moment that Emily felt unbearably warm. The thin dress she wore never seemed to keep her warm enough, but now the fabric felt restricting. Her face grew hotter, however, and all she wanted in that moment was a cold cup of water.

"You'll be disappointed." Emily tried, attempting to sway them from forcing her to turn out her pockets.

"Just humour us." The guard replied, lightly glaring down at her. It seemed her reluctance gave her away; He knew.

After a second of hesitation, Emily reached down into her pocket, pulling out the small pouch and handing it to the guard. The man opened it and turned it upside down, catching the coins as they fell into his hand. Emily didn't look up. She was too afraid of the looks they were giving her...of the looks her father gave her. She knew he once again wore the disappointed expression that had her feeling so guilty.

"You're going to have to come with us."

~...~...~...~

The ride to Winterfell castle wasn't short enough, not to Emily anyway. As soon as the guard had lifted her up onto the front of his horse, she knew what awaited her. But as they rode she couldn't feel anger towards Qetsiyah. They'd been friends so long that Emily was used to her antics, and while she'd gone too far this time, Emily knew she wouldn't turn her friend in. She was no snitch. But she also knew that if she didn't tell them the truth, then it'd be her who received the ten lashes. She knew Qetsiyah couldn't handle such pain. But maybe, just maybe, _she_ could.

As they entered the courtyard Emily had been in only two days before, she suddenly felt her stomach began to knot. Maybe it was the looks of those around her. The noble looking people stared at her in disgust, their eyes narrowing at the mere sight of her. The maids and servants, however, looked at her with sympathy. Maybe they'd had the same idea Qetsiyah did when she took the coins. If you weren't a noble in Winterfell then the days weren't very kind. The days were cold, freezing even. Sometimes they couldn't afford food for their whole family, meaning a good few of them, mainly parents with children, didn't eat for a day. Their Lord and Lady were of course generous and kind, but it didn't matter. In the land of always-winter, everyone who wasn't them suffered. But now Emily knew she was about to suffer more.

Two guards led her into the Castle and through the dark hallways. Emily had never had the misfortune of seeing Winterfell Castle. Her mother and Qetsiyah had told her many things about the inside of the stone building, but it seemed different now that she was seeing it with her own eyes.

They came to a large wooden door and the guard in front knocked loudly. "Come in." The voice inside beckoned. They entered and Emily looked up. There were only three people in the large room. Lord Stark, Lady Stark and - unfortunately for Emily - her mother.

"Emily." Her mother - Katrina - immediately gasped.

"We've found the thief M'Lord." The guard announced, handing Lord Stark the pouch of gold coins.

Emily kept her focus on Lord Stark, unable to even glance at her mother. She didn't want to see the look of disappointment on her face. She didn't want to feel like she'd let them down. Maybe when the sun had set and she'd faced her punishment, she could explain to her parents the whole story, how she got the coins in the first place. Maybe they'd believe her, maybe they wouldn't - it didn't matter. In the eyes of Winterfell's people, if a person took the punishment then it was them who committed the crime. So even if Emily told her mother and father the entire story, the only thing others would believe is that she was a thief.

"Leave us." Lord Stark told the guards. They immediately left the room, and then the Lord turned to Emily's mother. "And you."

"M'Lord, this is my daughter." Emily heard her mother say, her tone slightly pleading.

"Still, this is something that does not concern you right now, Katrina. You may see your daughter afterwards." Lady Stark reassured her mother. She seemed kind and slightly sympathetic towards her mother.

"Yes M'Lady." Emily averted her eyes, ignoring her mother as she walked passed her and left the room, letting the door click closed behind her.

"So, you're Emily?" Lady Stark asked Emily. She looked up in surprise; How did she know her name?

"Yes, my lady."

"Your mother has spoken of you often, very fondly I must say." The Lady Stark replied, only making Emily feel guiltier than she had before.

"Why did you steal this gold?" Lord Stark asked her. He remained seated behind his desk while Lady Stark stood behind him.

"I don't know, my Lord." Emily replied, shrugging her shoulders lightly; She'd never been that good of a liar. And apparently Lord Stark noticed as well.

"You didn't take these coins, did you?" He asked knowingly. Emily took a deep breath and paused for a moment. She couldn't turn in Qetsiyah. Her friend had gotten herself into this mess of course, but Emily wasn't prepared to betray her friends trust. Not even at the risk of a lashing.

"I did, my lord." Emily found it in herself to reply, albeit not without some hesitation.

"Emily, you know the punishment for theft, don't you?" Lady Stark asked her, her eyebrows raised slightly.

"I do."

"Then tell us, child, who really took these coins?" Lord Stark asked once more. Emily swallowed nervously. She may not have been a good liar, but she'd try her best.

"I did, my Lord. On the evening of your sons name-day celebration I snuck into the castle, knowing it would be unguarded, and took the gold coins. I'd had too much wine and didn't know what I was doing. I apologise for any inconvenience I've caused my Lord." Emily replied, staring down at the floor. Even if her Lord and Lady Stark didn't believe her, they'd have to hand her the punishment - they had no choice.

"Very well," Lord Stark said, rising from his chair and approaching her. Emily looked up from the floor once his boot-clad feet came into view. "You are to receive ten lashes. One for each piece of gold you took." He told her, though slightly reluctant.

"Of course, my Lord." Emily replied. But this time, she didn't try to cloud how scared she was. It wouldn't make a difference. He left the room then, leaving her alone with Lady Stark. The woman didn't appear angry with her, she merely looked sympathetic towards her.

"You lied for your friend. Why?" The Lady Stark asked her. Emily looked directly into her eyes.

"It is a cruel world we live in, Lady Stark. Friends are hard to come by." She replied. Emily didn't worry about Lady Stark, the woman couldn't run to her husband and announce that Emily had confirmed it wasn't her. She'd already admitted to the crime and soon she'd be facing her punishment. "I know I have no place to ask for favours. But could you make sure my mother doesn't see...what happens. I don't want to see her face when I receive the lashes." Emily pleaded. The Lady Stark nodded, a grim smile on her face.

"It's time." Both Emily and Lady Stark looked towards the door. A guard stood in the doorway, looking directly at Emily.

"I apologise once more, Lady Stark." Emily told her before allowing the guard to lead her out of the Castle, and towards her punishment.

* * *

Quick Author's Note;

Just wanted to say a quick thank-you to those who have Reviewed, Favourited, and Followed so far. It means a lot! Also, there will be more interaction between Emily and Robb in the next chapter. Promise! Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review if you can. Thanks!


	4. IV

**Chapter IV**

Emily followed the guards out into the courtyard, averting her eyes towards the floor. She felt sick. It didn't help that many villagers and richer-folk had come to watch the lashing. She could feel their stares and judgements and she knew that if she looked up, it'd only make her feel worse.

As the guards led her out of Winterfell Castle, she quickly glanced up. In the middle of the courtyard a large and thick wooden beam had been shoved into the ground. Emily could also see a rather long length of rope on the floor beside it and it did nothing to help her nerves: She knew exactly what it was for. She could also tell from the darkened colour of the rope that it'd been raining and they were soaked. It meant that when they did bind her hands, her wrists would most likely scar. She'd seen enough lashings to know that when the pain became unbearable, she'd start to pull at the beam in an effort to escape it. Emily knew by the end of the punishment, she'd be in a tremendous amount of agony.

Emily stopped as soon as the guards did and finally raised her head. In front of her stood Lord Stark and, to make things worse, his sons. They both stood a few paces behind their father, the same blank expressions on their faces. She guessed that they were either bored, or attempting to conceal how they really felt about lashings.

She prayed to the gods that it was the latter.

"Emily." Lord Stark said loudly, causing her to flinch.

"Yes, my lord." She swallowed, wringing her hands behind her back. She was scared.

"Do you confirm that it was you who stole ten gold coins from my home, the night of my eldest sons name-day?" He asked.

Emily paused and looked towards the eldest Stark son. She hoped that he'd been too drunk that night to remember her name, and for a moment her hopes seemed to have been confirmed. Soon enough, however, his expression changed. Where it had been once of confusion and clearly an attempt to remember his name-day, it transformed much too quickly to one of realisation. She could only hope that he didn't tell his father it hadn't been her that had stolen the coins: She would rather die than see her friend in pain, even if she had to be the one to accept the dreadful fate instead.

"Yes, my lord." She finally replied, averting her eyes once again.

"Then I sentence you to ten lashes. One for each piece of gold stolen." He declared.

To Emily's horror, many of the villagers that had come to see her receive the lashes cheered loudly, as though pleased at the fact she'd be forced to endure such pain. She'd known too long just how cruel people could be and now her suspicions had been confirmed. With her mother inside the castle with Lady Stark, whom Emily hoped had kept to her word, and with Qetsiyah back at her cottage, there were no familiar faces to help comfort her. She would have to do it alone.

A guard gripped her hair and dragged her towards the post, roughly throwing her against it. She gasped as the air was momentarily knocked from her body, but other than that could not make a sound. If she put up a fight then it would only be worse. Emily knew she'd have to find a way to get through the lashes without feeling it. Maybe once the pain became too unbearable she could push it to the back of her mind. It'd been something she'd heard through rumours: That when a person was being harmed or abused in any way, they could take themselves into another world. One where they were so far away in thought that they could barely feel it. But she had to wonder: How much pain would she have to take to have to hide inside her mind? It was a very troubling thought.

The guard bound her wrists and, as she'd suspected, the ropes burned whenever she moved her hands. It didn't hurt as much in that moment, it irritated her skin and made it itch. But Emily knew that once the lashing started...well, things would become more painful for her.

"Robb, it has to be done."

Emily could faintly hear the conversation occurring between Lord Stark and his son. It sounded very much like a small argument, but she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that every time they glanced her way, she had a small feeling that the topic was somehow based around her.

"But she didn't do it. Please, father..."

The suspense was worse. She knew what was to come and the two Lords dragging it out was not helping. If anything it made things worse. Why wouldn't they just get it over and done with? The quicker they carried out her punishment, the quicker they could return to their luxurious lives. It made no sense to her.

She watched intently and soon enough, their argument stopped. At first Emily felt relief: Relief that it would be over as soon as it'd begun and relief that when it was all over and done with, she could go home to her cottage and rest. It was only when Lord Stark's son took the whip from his father did she panic. Why on earth would he do it? The Lord who passed the sentence swung the sword, so to speak. But maybe Robb was being trained, he would be Lord of Winterfell once his father passed, so it made a little bit of sense to her. But that didn't mean she had to like it.

Emily tensed as a gloved hand pushed her curls over her left shoulder. It was almost time.

"Try and bite down on the rope." A male voice whispered.

"W-what?" She silently stuttered, making sure to keep her eyes ahead.

"It'll stop you from biting off your tongue."

It was their Lord's son, she realised. Emily would recognize the deep voice anywhere. It'd been haunting her dreams since the night of his name-day.

Emily subtly nodded and strained to lift her hands higher. There was a small piece of rope handing from the end. She wouldn't be able to free herself, but she'd be able to get her teeth around it.

A pressure erupted against her back and a second later a loud ripping sound echoed through the courtyard. The cold air nipped at her shoulder blades and she sighed: He'd just ripped one of her two dresses. She'd never be able to afford another.

When the sound of footsteps against stone reached her ears, she leaned her forehead against the cold and damp post. Emily tried desperately to think of something - anything, that would distract her from what was about to happen. She let her mind wander back, back to when she'd been at her happiest. Oddly enough, the very day she thought of was the day of her younger brothers birth. Her mother had been birthing for so long and with their father gone, Emily had been the one to take care of her. She'd been terrified, thinking that with her lack of experience in birthing, something would go wrong. But it hadn't. Emily had urged her mother to push and, soon enough, little Bedwyr had been born. He'd been covered in blood and some form of white substance, screaming and crying, but all Emily could think was that she'd never seen something so beautiful. After being an only child for so long, she now had a sibling - a baby brother, whom she'd watch over until death took her from this world.

Emily smiled at the memory but soon let out a loud gasp. One down, nine more to go.

~...~...~...~...~...~...~

Emily shut her eyes and panted, holding onto the wooden post with whatever strength she could find within. The pain was unbearable. At first she'd thought it bad but now, now it was worse. Each lash she received struck another, worsening her pain and she knew that should anyone ask her about it, she'd not be able to reply. It stung, more than anything she'd ever felt before, yet she could also feel an aching sort of pain rising. She was sure it was her muscles. After the fifth lash she'd struggled to keep herself upright and now she wondered why hadn't let go. Surely letting herself fall to the floor and receiving the rest of the lashes from that position would be significantly easier, but she couldn't. She wouldn't give the people the satisfaction of seeing her that way. They had come to see someone writhe in pain and fall to the floor from exhaustion but they would leave severely disappointed. Emily was determined to stay standing until the end and afterwards, when it was done, she'd start home. No one would help her, that much she knew, so she'd have to do it alone. It would be the hardest part, but she'd do it; She had no other choice.

Another lash came, then another, and Emily wondered when it would stop. She'd lost count of how many times she'd been lashed and instead focussed on trying to get through it. But now she wished she'd kept track, at least then she could reassure herself that it'd stop soon. She felt as though time had slowed down. It could have been minutes since she'd received the first lash but to her it felt like hours. They were never-ending and it felt as though she were having a bad dream, but she had to remind herself; It was real. It was happening and she wouldn't suddenly wake up and find herself home in bed, shaking and dripping with sweat. The scars would last years and be a constant reminder of the pain she had willingly endured.

Suddenly she felt as if her prayers had been answered. A nearby guard came forward and unbound her hands and she felt a quick rush of relief flow throughout her body. It was over. It was done.

The people that had come to see her punishment excited as soon as the rope around her wrists had been untied. They all flocked towards the gates, eager to continue whatever they'd been doing when she'd been brought forward. Emily hoped they were unsatisfied by what they'd seen. She hoped that she'd been strong enough not to let them see just how much pain she'd felt and was still currently feeling. But she also knew that even if she'd shown no pain, rumours would spread. She'd be forced to stay on the farm, no clever man or woman would offer her work now that she'd been branded a thief, not even the whore-house would allow her through their doors should she ever fall to that level of desperation. Emily could only hope that her father and mother would not also treat her differently because of it. She didn't care what people thought of her, they didn't know what she'd done and she could care less of their opinions and judgements. But her mother and father? Well, she thought the world of their opinions, and would not be able to live should they also look at her with suspicious and disapproving glances.

"Emily!" The scream echoed through the courtyard and almost immediately Emily knew who was calling her name; She recognize her mother's voice anywhere.

"Mother." Her voice was strained and her lips were dry, though she quickly moistened them with her tongue.

"My daughter, my darling little daughter." Her mother whispered, placing both hands on Emily's face and stroking her cheeks with her thumbs. "What have they done to you?"

Emily was suddenly grateful for the fact that she could not see her reflection. She was sure that if she could, she'd see a sickly-looking, messy girl. Her cheeks were damp from tears and though the lashing was done, she still felt nauseous. Her hands shook though she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the pain. But she didn't care. All she wanted was to go home, lie down, and let sleep take over.

"I-I want t-to go home, m-mother." She stuttered her reply, her hands clutching at her mothers dress. She suddenly felt as though she were eight name-days old once more, waking up from a horrible dream and rushing to her mother to comfort her.

"Of course." Her mother agreed, wrapping her arms around Emily's waist and helping her walk towards the gate. "It's alright now," her mother reassured as Emily rested her head on the older woman's shoulder. "You'll be alright."

* * *

**Author's Note;**

Hi guys! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in such a long time, I've been pretty occupied with things here in the real world. But I'm back now! And hopefully I'll be updating a lot more now that my writer's block has gone. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter though! And don't worry, there will be more Robb/Emily moments in the next one!

Anyway you guys know the drill: Please review, favourite, or follow if you enjoy. Thanks!


	5. V

**Chapter V**

Emily lifted her arms and let the dress slide down, wincing as the light fabric skimmed the wounds on her back. It'd been three days since she'd received her lashes but the pain still remained. The cuts ran long and deep and since they did not have a maester in the household, her wounds were bare for all to see. Her mother, a woman she now thought of as an angel, had fashioned a suitable dress from the very little fabric they had. To Emily's relief it was light and open at the back, meaning the dress would not rub against her wounds and cause her more pain. And while it was not suitable for the cold weather of the North, she could not find it within herself to care. She rarely left the cottage anymore and would much rather be cold than in pain.

Qetsiyah hadn't been by since that day. Dimitrii, however, had visited the morning after, asking her how she was and that if she needed anything all she had to do was ask. He'd told her that in the rare moments he spoke to Qetsiyah, their conversations were brief. She still worked at the Castle and lived with her mother, but according to him she'd changed greatly. Dimitrii had claimed that he no longer saw the mischievous glint that was always held in her eyes, and that she now took things more seriously than she previously had. Emily had a small feeling that it was because of her...at least, that's what she hoped. Maybe hearing of her friend receiving such pain pulled her out of whatever child-like, playful demeanour she formerly had. And while Emily was slightly relieved that her friend would no longer be getting them both in trouble, she knew she'd miss it.

"Emily, are you alright?"

Emily turned her head and found her mother watching her with worried eyes. She was supposed to be working in the Castle, but since the lashing her mother had chosen to remain home with her. Emily had asked her if she'd received permission from Lady Stark before doing so, and her mother had briefly explained that the Lady had allowed her to stay in the cottage for four days. It seemed four days was long enough to take care of an apparently thieving daughter that'd been punished. And while Emily was grateful towards her mother, she could not help but feel slightly annoyed. It wasn't as though she'd been crippled...only whipped. She was still able to do as much as she had before her punishment, and the thought of her mother thinking her incapable of looking after herself was a little insulting.

"You needn't worry, mother. I'm more than capable of looking after myself." Emily reassured, struggling to tie the strings of her dress.

Without being asked, her mother strolled forward and lightly smacked Emily's hands away, taking over. "Your scars should begin to heal soon." She stated, taking no longer than five seconds to tie the strings.

"Are they...I just...do they seem infected?" Emily stuttered nervously. The worst thing in their village, apart from death itself, would be for a small, or large, wound to become infected. They didn't have the money to buy medicines or other remedies, and she'd be doomed to die a slow, painful death.

Her mother sighed and said, "I do not believe so, my darling. As long as we clean them every morning and every night they should heal soon enough." Her words reassured Emily.

"Thank the gods." Emily muttered. She hadn't yet been able to see the severity of her scars, and was partly grateful for it. She'd always been so self-conscious of her body and the scars did not help. In fact, they made her feel worse. Emily knew she was a pretty little thing, many had told her so, but she was not extremely beautiful. In her own mind, she saw herself marrying a villager - butcher, most likely. Her father would never sell her to a high bidder, at least she hoped he wouldn't, so she was extremely fortunate to be able to marry for love. But in their small village she could not find anyone that she even considered marrying, not even Demetrii entered her mind. He was a friend and nothing more and she was sure he liked Qetsiyah, but if there was no one else and she had no option, she was sure she'd accept should he ask her.

"Mother! Mother!"

Both Emily and her mother turned towards the door. Bedwyr and Emily's youngest brother, Cerwyn, both ran into the room as fast as their little legs would allow. They seemed short of breath, as though they'd been running for hours.

"What is it?" Her mother asked, kneeling down to better see the boys.

"A-a man," Bedwyr panted, "noble...I think."

"What does he want?" Emily demanded, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. Why would a nobleman be there?

It was Cerwyn that replied this time. He stared up at her with wide, worried eyes. "You." He stated.

Emily swallowed nervous as all eyes turned to her. She wondered why on earth a nobleman would be looking for her, and a few worrying questions came to mind. What if someone had blamed a theft on her? It was not uncommon for things to go missing in their village and when they did...well, whoever the person knew as a thief would be held responsible. Emily couldn't even count the many times she'd seen a previously punished man be forced to endure it all again because of a mere rumour. To be branded a thief was _not _a good life, no matter the gender or age.

"Mother." Emily whispered, her voice pleading.

"I-I'll go see what he wants." Her mother assured her, standing to her full height and leaving the house.

As soon as their mother disappeared, Emily, Bedwyr, and Cerwyn rushed towards the window in Emily's room. They could all see their mother leave the house and approach the man, who Emily found to be on horseback. He faced away from them, so she could not see his face, only his back, but she could clearly see her mothers face. And from what she could see, it seemed that they were in some type of heated discussion, but Emily could only base that fact on her mothers expression.

"Emily!" Her mother shouted.

Emily sighed nervously and turned away from the window, heading towards the door. She rubbed her sweaty palms against the apron of the dress and struggled to keep her head high. She could only hope that her fears had not come true, because if they were, then she'd surely panic and run. The wounds that marked her back were still unbearably painful, and should she be forced to face the whip again...well, she knew she would not leave as pulled together as she had the time previous.

When she finally left the cottage, she let her feet slow down. She didn't dare move away from the doorway and instead remained where she was. Emily didn't need to move forward, she knew who'd come to see her. The surprise she felt was instant and there was another feeling, something like...relief. She wasn't completely sure why she felt relieved, if anything she should have been terrified. The son of their Lord did not visit a peasants cottage for nothing, there had to be something he wanted. But what did he want from her? They'd shared a dance on the night of his name-day, and then she'd been lashed for stealing coins not a week later. Emily would have been happy to never see him again, but it seemed the Gods had something else in mind for her.

"My Lord." She greeted, dropping into a quick curtsey.

"Emily," Her mother called, pulling her attention away from the Lord. "He wants only to speak with you. Nothing more."

The relief she felt was instant. It was like a large wave rushing over her body and taking over all other feelings. Her shoulders dropped and she no longer felt threatened.

"O-of course." Emily muttered, attempting to take control of her nerves.

"Will you walk with me?" Robb Stark asked, swiftly climbing down from his horse.

Emily meekly nodded in reply and he tied the reigns of his horse to their fence. Her mother moved away from the Lord and quickly approached her. "I trust him, Emily, he is as honourable as his father, he'll not harm you. But should you see any sign of danger, I want you to run. Don't stay, don't fight - run." Her mother demanded.

"Of course." Emily agreed.

"Emily." The last time he'd said her name, they'd both been ridiculously drunk and had just shared one of the most intimate dances she'd ever performed. But she had to remind herself, he was a Lord, she a peasant. Nothing like that could happen again.

"I won't be long, mother." Emily assured, moving towards the Lord.

"Be careful my dear." Her mother couldn't help but exclaim.

"I will." Emily smiled, before taking the offered arm of her Lord.

~...~...~...~...~...~

They'd been walking for no longer than a few minutes, but the awkward silence between the two made time travel slower. Emily had, at first, felt uncomfortable and anxious around her Lord. However that feeling had long since disappeared. Since entering the wood her fears had gone. If he really wanted to harm her or take her back to Winterfell Castle for punishment he'd have done so already. But he hadn't. He hadn't even spoken one word to her since they'd walked away from her cottage and Emily was beginning to feel a little annoyed. Surely he had a reason for visiting her? If so she'd rather know now than later. She was tempted to be the first to speak, since the silence her Lord seemed eager to let drag on was beginning to irritate her.

"My lord," she began, albeit hesitatingly. "Why are you here?"

Robb Stark remained silent. He looked at her, then back up at the wood, seemingly in thought. "I do not know." He confessed. His statement did nothing to lessen Emily's feeling of annoyance.

"With all due respect, my lord, there must be a reason." She pressed.

"You did not steal the coins, did you?" It was more of a statement than a question, but she answered it non the less.

"Would you believe me if I said that I didn't?" Emily asked, averting her eyes towards the muddy ground of the wood.

"Aye, I would." His reply surprised her. Everyone thought her to be a thief, so why didn't he?

She sighed and said, "Why? What makes you so sure that I did not take them?"

He grinned slightly and looked down at the ground. He seemed almost...shameful? As though he'd done something that he shouldn't have. "That night, I watched you from the moment you arrived. You couldn't have taken those coins. Qetsiyah, however, she'd disappeared for a long enough time while we were otherwise...occupied." He explained.

Emily nodded and shyly looked away. She'd seen him watching her that night, but she did not know he'd watched her for such a long time. She wasn't that interesting, was she?

"I do not know what to say, my lord." She muttered, before remembering that she was protecting her friend. "But you must not have been watching closely enough, because I did take those coins. I took my punishment."

"Taking the punishment does not mean you committed the crime." Was his firm statement.

Emily swallowed nervously. "It does not matter anymore, my lord. I took my punishment and the scars will always be with me."

The eldest Stark child merely stared at her for a moment, a look of sympathy gracing his features. But she didn't like it. She hadn't meant for him to be sympathetic...she wasn't sure what she wanted. But there was something else, something that looked like...guilt? And it was then that she remembered. He'd been the one to hand her the punishment. He'd been the one to give her the lashes and he'd been the one to curse her back with those ugly scars. But he shouldn't have felt guilty about it, he'd done what was asked of him, or what she assumed had been asked of him. She was sure she couldn't even begin to understand it if he'd willingly taken that whip.

"May I," He stopped suddenly and so did she. "May I see them. Please."

Emily sighed and fidgeted slightly. She knew what he meant, and she knew exactly what he wanted to see. "Of course, my Lord." She reluctantly agreed, turning her back towards him and pulling her hair forward over her shoulder. He was her Lord and it would not do well for her to refuse him of anything.

She heard a quick, sharp intake of breath and felt a hand on her shoulder. These were the scars he'd given to her and a part of her wanted him to see them. She wanted him to see the curse he'd bestowed upon her and hoped he'd feel the guilt. But then she had to remind herself; It wasn't his fault. Emily could not blame him for something he had no choice in, and even if he himself had not gave her the lashes then someone else would have. She knew that she was only searching for someone other than herself to take the blame. But deep down she knew that it had been her own fault. She hadn't had to help Qetsiyah that day, nor had she been forced to endure the lashes. Yet here she was, with a Lord's son inspecting the damage he'd caused, and apparently being avoided by the very 'friend' she'd helped protect.

"I am sorry." Robb said finally, stepping away from her.

"For what?" Emily asked with fake confusion, turning so that her back was hidden from him.

"I knew you hadn't stolen the coins. I knew and I did nothing. I tried to make it as quick and painless as I possibly could." His tone was apologetic and even Emily was surprised by it.

She gaped. "M-my Lord, you need not apologise. Though I do need to know one thing." He nodded and she continued. "Why did you do it? The lashing."

He paused for a moment, but soon replied. "I...One day I am to be Lord of Winterfell, and the punishments will be mine to carry out. My father is training me and I need to learn to carry out a sentence." He quickly glanced away. "But I also wanted to help you. I do not like to see innocent people suffer because of the faults of others; People like you. If my father had lashed you it would have lasted longer than I'd like, so I tried to make it quick. Although from the state you were in afterwards I fear I may have failed."

Emily wasn't sure what to say to him. From what he'd told her, she knew that he'd taken the whip from his father to ensure a quick lashing for her. And while it had been an excruciating experience he'd shown something not many other Lords had; Mercy. The lashing, she realised, could have taken longer and the pain could have been worse...much worse. And even though she still had nightmares about it all, she couldn't find it within herself to hate him.

"The pain was awful, my Lord. It is something that, should someone ask, I could never explain. It still haunts my dreams at night and cleaning the wound is a horror all on its own. But I forgive you, My Lord. I hope I am not too forward in my assumptions, but it seems to me that the lashing I faced does not only haunt me. You should not feel guilt and I hope that when you return to your Castle you no longer feel how you currently do. As a Lord it is your duty to punish those who commit crimes, and sometimes the innocent are caught up in it all. I'm sure I'll not be the first. I no longer think of that day, my Lord, and I've accepted that it has happened. Now it's your turn." Emily prayed to the gods that she'd gotten through to him. They didn't need a Lord that could not handle passing sentences, they needed a Lord that knew no matter what, mistakes had to be made.

Robb Stark's reaction shocked her. He chuckled to himself, seemingly in some form of disbelief. Emily wondered if her forgiveness had taken him by surprise. Maybe he wasn't expecting her to forgive and forget so quickly. But she was not the type to hold a grudge and she never would be. Grudges could twist and bend a person into something they never imagined themselves becoming. They would do things and claim that it was the right thing, when in fact it would be the wrong thing to do. And Emily had long since vowed that she would never lose herself in such petty acts.

"Thank you." He finally breathed, lightly shaking his head. "Just...thank you."

"I'm glad that I could help, my Lord." Emily smiled, clasping her hands together in front of her.

"May I see you again, Emily?"

Emily hesitated for a second. "Of course." She let out the breath she'd been holding while she spoke. He wanted to see her again, but why?

* * *

Author's Note;

Hi guys! Thank you for all the reviews so far. It means a lot. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, there was a lot more Emily/Robb in this.

Please Review, Favourite, and Follow if you can.

Thanks!


	6. VI

**Chapter VI**

"I cannot believe it!"

"It does not matter if you do not believe it, it is true."

It had been two weeks since he'd first visited her cottage, and since then he'd kept to his word. Every other day since then, he'd visited her. Emily didn't question it, nor did she mind, she was glad of the company. She hadn't seen Qetsiyah in so long and Demetrii rarely visited. It hurt her that they never came anymore, she'd thought that after her punishment they'd visit more frequently...but they didn't. Qetsiyah seemed to be avoiding her and she wasn't completely sure what Demetrii was up to, though she had a feeling he was busy with other things. But at least he visited. The girl she'd saved from a horrid experience didn't even have the decency to see if she was alright, or even thank her for what she did, and while Emily had been saddened at first, she now only felt anger. However, since her Lord had decided to visit, she no longer wondered what her former friends were doing. He kept her mind away from all that, and she was grateful for it.

Emily currently fiddled with the small daisy flower she held between her fingers, while Robb hung back a few paces. Once again they were in the Wolfswood, the place where they usually met. It was now a routine for them, to meet at the entrance to the wood at noon, and Emily could not complain. It was so quiet and so beautiful and she was grateful that she could spend so much time there. If it weren't for Robb, she knew she would not enter it. While it was a simple and relaxing environment, she knew it could also be dangerous should she enter alone. Wildlings were rare, but she could not risk it.

"You've never ridden a horse?" Robb asked incredulously.

"I've had no need for one, my Lord. And I don't know why you're so surprised, women aren't permitted to ride horses, it isn't proper." Emily replied, lightly shrugging her shoulders.

"But how do you get to the market?" He asked.

Emily shrugged once again and simply said, "I walk."

He stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowed as though he were searching to see if she were lying or not. "You're serious." She nodded. "But it's a rather long walk."

Emily could only shrug once more. "It does not matter, I'm used to it." Robb nodded, leaving it at that. "Anyway, enough about me. What about you?"

"What would you like to know?" He asked, raising his arms slightly as they walked.

"Anything, tell me anything. What is it like? Living in a Castle?" She asked, occasionally glancing his way.

"Not as exciting as you may think." He chuckled, lightly shaking his head.

"Oh I am sure. Sleeping in a large, warm bed, waking only when you want to. Having servants bring you your food, your drink, make your bed, clean your chambers and empty your pots. Doing whatever you wish. It seems like such a boring life." Emily was mocking him, and from his expression she knew that he knew it too.

Robb glared slightly. "It is not as simple as that." He stated. "We train in the morning, mostly Theon, Jon and I. My father and mother take care of the important matters, things such as complaints, stocking food, money and other things. My brother and I usually train Brann to use his bow, though I fear he is getting worse than better." His tone lightened as he spoke of his brothers and it made Emily smile. There were some things they did have in common. "What is a normal day for you, Emily?"

"In the morning, I wake at dawn. I feed and clean the pigs, sweep the floors and clean whatever plates we have. Then my father usually sends me to the market to collect bread, we have enough pork at our cottage. Every month or two my father will take our largest pig and sell him to another farmer, we do not make as much money but it keeps us alive. Mother spends most of her time at the Castle so I watch over my brothers." She explained, staring ahead in thought.

"You have brothers? How old?"

"I have two. Cerwyn and Bedwyr. Bedwyr is eight, and Cerwyn six. Both are very wild and believe that they will become knights when they come of age." She said, feeling a small sense of happiness when discussing her baby brothers.

Robb also smiled. "Maybe they will."

"They cannot." Emily objected, sighing wistfully. "They are the sons of a pig farmer. When they are old enough to pay attention they will take over from my father, as he did with his father. And on and on it will go."

"You should not think so pessimistically." He told her.

"It is not pessimistic, it is realistic." Emily corrected him, looking up at the sun that shined through the gaps between the leaves. "Our lives are bound to Winterfell."

Only when Emily did not hear his footsteps did she stop and turn. Robb stared at her from where he stood, a thoughtful look upon his face. She knew that her words were rather depressing, but they were true. He couldn't understand it, he was a Lord. He would do great things when he took over from his father, things that not many were given the chance to do. He would marry a wealthy Lady, most likely to create an alliance, since he was the eldest son. The Lady would give him children, little boys and girls, that would do them both proud when they grew older. Robb's life was so clear and easy that she envied it. Because she knew in the back of her mind that she would be lucky to even marry a stable-boy, and birth at least one child. The life of a peasant was significantly harder than that of a highborn.

"If that is how you see the world then that is how it shall be." He said.

"It is inevitable, my lord. You would not know." Emily sighed, looking down at the ground.

"Because I am a Lord?" Robb asked, though it was more of a statement.

"Yes." She admitted. "Because you are a Lord." She didn't care if it offended him, she would not go easy on him just because he was of higher status than she. If anything, she would tell him straight.

"Is that how you see me?" He asked with annoyance. "A spoilt, rich, snooty Lord?"

Emily sighed once more and shook her head. She slowly approached him until they were no more than an inch apart. "No, I do not see you that way. But I feel as though you are taking advantage of what you have. I am sure that the pressures of being Warden of the North are now becoming too strong to bare but you do not realise how easy you have it. I feel as though you do not..." she struggled to find the right word, "appreciate it enough."

"You think it is easy, being a Lord?" He asked, though she knew it were not a question. "I am the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark. When my father passes, I will take over everything. The meetings, the complaints of my people, worrying if we have enough food for winter, making sure every little thing is in place. I will have to marry for duty. I will never be given the chance to meet someone, fall in love and then marry that woman. I will be forced to wed a stranger, and of course I cannot complain because it is expected of me. She could be cold, cruel, indifferent-"

"Or," Emily interrupted. "She could be loving, caring, kind, all the things a man would want in a wife. She would help you with your duties, keep you sane when you feel as though the world is crumbling down and give you beautiful children. Not everything you think is bad will be so."

He smiled. "And the same goes for you."

Emily laughed and looked up at him, seeing the amusement shining in his eyes. "I suppose you are right, my Lord. Why is it that I can only see the light in another's life, instead of my own?" She asked.

"Because, Emily, when you are in your own world, wrapped up in everything and feel as though you are suffocating, you forget to stop and take a breath. If you could just slow it down and see things more clearly, you would realise that not everything is as bad as it seems." He shrugged.

Emily nodded and smiled to herself, turning to walk once again, though she let her Lord catch up to her. "So," He sighed. "About this horse..."

~...~...~...~

It had been no longer than an hour since the Lord had left her, returning to the Castle to continue whatever it was he had to do there. But Emily always felt a small sense of loneliness once he'd disappeared into the wood. To her it sounded pathetic, but he was currently the only friend she had. With Qetsiyah and Demetrii being...busy, she assumed, she'd been rather upset. She knew she should not have been ungrateful, however, because she still had her family to talk to. Though with her mother and father working most of the day, and her little brothers being too young to hold a normal conversation, it was rather hard for her. But her Lord, well, he had enough time on his hands to leave whenever he wanted and return much the same way. The only reason he ever left was because she asked it, claiming that she had to get home to the cottage. Although in reality it was not the case. Emily enjoyed the time she'd spent with the eldest Stark son, but she knew it would not - it could not, last. Soon he would marry, and then he'd be Lord, and eventually there would be no time for the Pig Farmer's daughter. The saddening fate was inevitable.

"Emily."

Her head whipped around so fast she was sure she'd fall down. And her mind had not prepared her for what she'd see.

"Hello." Qetsiyah greeted, waving lightly.

Emily could only stare. At first, she could not say anything, having been too shocked to mutter even one word. But soon, it all changed, and a rush of what felt like a thousand different emotions washed over her. She felt happy, then angry, then sad, then angry once more. She had to wonder if her moon's blood would make itself known soon, since she only ever felt strangely emotionally when her moon blood was arriving. But Emily also knew that it wasn't just that, it was because her friend, her best friend had only chosen to show her face _two weeks _after she'd taken a harsh punishment for her. And so, Emily felt the only feeling she knew Qetsiyah was worthy of receiving; Her anger.

"Two weeks. Two weeks and all you can say to me is 'Hello'?!" She exclaimed.

"I-I know, I'm sorry." Qetsiyah meekly uttered her reply. Though Emily was rather grateful she had the decency to seem ashamed. "I felt awful."

Emily sighed loudly and crossed her arms. "You didn't visit, why?"

"I couldn't face you after what I did. When I heard what happened I just...ran. You have no idea how scared and worried I was I thought I was about to faint!" Her friend replied.

"How _scared _and _worried _you were?" Emily demanded, eyes narrowed to slits. "I took blame for something _you _did, Qetsiyah. I was whipped until my back bled and I now bare scars that will never leave me. I thought that when I returned, you'd be here, ready to comfort me in the way you always have. Like when were little girls, and I hurt my ankle running through the forest with you. You helped me home and promised me that it would all be over soon." Both she and Qetsiyah smiled at the memory, but Emily's soon faded into a frown. "But you weren't there."

Qetsiyah averted her eyes to the ground and said, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Emily. I was ashamed. Ashamed that I'd let the only true friend I'd ever had receive a punishment so brutal and terrible. I _should _have come with you. I _should _have been there, helping you home when it was done. But I was too scared, Emily. I didn't know what to do, so I ran home to my mother. When I heard about it I knew I wouldn't be able to face you, not after what you went through for me. Emily, I am so, so sorry for what I did to you." By now tears had made themselves known in Qetsiyah's eyes. "Can you forgive me?"

"I..." Emily trailed off into though, refusing to answer her old friend for a moment. Could she forgive her? It hadn't been the coins that had maddened her, nor had it been the lashing. It had been Qetsiyah's disappearance afterwards that had hurt her the most. But they had been friends for so long, and Emily knew that no matter what Qetsiyah did to her, she would always be forgiven. "I forgive you."

Qetsiyah smiled in relief and rushed forward, throwing her arms around Emily's shoulders. "Thank you! Thank you! I will make it all up to you, I promise!" She exclaimed.

"I know you will." Emily shrugged, drawing back to look back at the friend she'd missed so much. "And I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" Qetsiyah whispered, glancing back at the small cottage they stood in front of. "Is it something big?"

"I...suppose so." Emily smiled, looking down at the floor. A nervous habit she had to rid herself of. "It's about our Lord,"

* * *

Author's Note;

Hi readers! Me again! Would just like to thank you all for the Reviews, Favourites and Follows, they mean a lot! Also, Qetsiyah's back! I wasn't sure if I was going to bring her back into the story so soon but hey, why not.

Anyway, if you have any questions about the story so far please feel free to ask through PM. And please leave a Review as they mean so much to me.

Thanks!


	7. VII

**Chapter VII**

"I can't do this."

"Yes, you can."

"No. I really can't."

Things had, once again, returned to how they were. Emily could now wear a dress without her feeling as though someone were cutting her back, and Qetsiyah was finally back in her life. She'd almost forgotten just how much fun her friend was, and having her around made her happier. Emily had told her everything that had happened with their Lord, and Qetsiyah's response had been rather crude at the most. But like always it did not matter what her friend said, did, or had done. Emily would forgive her no matter what. And she was so glad that she'd accepted Qetsiyah's apology. The hardest part had been telling her father. He'd shouted, cursed, even gone as far as to strike the cottage wall. In the end, Emily found herself soothing his knuckles and repeatedly telling him that everything would be alright. Qetsiyah was no longer welcome into the cottage, but that did not stop Emily from visiting her at Winterfell Castle, along with Demetrii. It seemed that all at once, things had taken a turn for the better, and it wasn't only because of her friends.

Emily had long since decided that she no longer worried about her future with their Lord. One day he may be Lord of Winterfell, and married to some noble girl, but for now he was her friend, and she was determined to make the most of it. No one else knew of their friendship apart from Qetsiyah, who'd sworn not to tell her mother, father, or even Demetrii. The last thing Emily wanted or needed was for rumours to spread, it would ruin everything they'd slowly built. They'd come to an understanding of sorts, during the few weeks they'd spent getting to know each other better. She wouldn't ask about his life in the Castle, and in turn he would not question her about her own life. They left their problems and worries back at their respective homes, and enjoyed everything else. The only difference was, Emily didn't bring one of Robb's fears straight to him.

"I am _not _getting on that horse." Emily stated, crossing her arms defiantly.

"It's one ride, Emily. It won't kill you!" Robb laughed from atop the scary, albeit beautiful, horse.

"It might!"

Apparently there were some things her Lord would not let die. Only a few short weeks ago she'd told him that she'd never ridden a horse, and now here he was, waiting patiently for her to climb on behind him. But there had been another reason she'd never ridden one. A very small, intricate detail she'd left out.

"Emily." He called her name and she looked up at him. "Are you afraid of horses?" He said it as though the very idea were ridiculous, but for her it was a reality, and her silence told him everything. "Gods, you are."

"It's not an uncommon fear!" She defensively exclaimed. "They're powerful creatures, capable of killing or maiming a person. Is it so surprising that I'm a little weary around them?"

He laughed once again and it annoyed her greatly. "I assure you, Emily, he's the kindest animal you'll ever meet. Just try it once."

Emily looked at the horse, then Robb, then back to the horse. "I don't trust him."

"Do you trust me?" The question caught her off-guard and for a moment, she spluttered, until an answer finally made its way out.

"I-I think I do."

Robb looked up in thought and nodded to himself. "That's enough."

Before Emily could even begin to wonder what he was doing, he'd already hauled her up onto the saddle behind him. Thankfully, he did not nudge the horse to move, and instead waited for her to adjust. The shock began to wear off and Emily showed him just how annoyed she was at his actions.

"What was that for?" He exclaimed, chuckling slightly as he rubbed the back of his head.

"You _know _what that was for." Emily snapped, pointing a finger in his face.

"You know, attacking your Lord has a brutal punishment." Robb grinned.

Emily narrowed her eyes. "I think I'll take the risk."

The horse moved and Emily jumped. It hadn't even moved more than a step and she assumed it was adjusting itself, but it scared her none the less. She quickly latched on to the back of Robb's cloak and hid her face in the fur, her eyes clenched shut. Emily didn't care if he thought her pathetic, she was sure there were some things he himself feared and would shake at the very thought of facing. Horses just so happened to be hers.

"You're safe, Emily." Robb reassured her, though she kept her face buried in his cloak.

"He's unpredictable." Her words were slightly muffled, and she hoped he'd been able to hear her.

"Emily."

She slowly lifted her head to face him, resisting the urge to look down at the large horse she sat on.

"You're _safe_." It could have been the tone in his voice, or the way he looked at her, but she found no trace of hesitance in his words. All she could do was nod. "We won't run, not unless you're ready."

"N-no running?" She repeated, swallowing nervously.

"No running." He promised.

Emily gave him a small nod and he turned to face forward. She felt him nudge the horses sides and soon, they began in a slow walk. She was still apprehensive and clutched Robb's waist like a little girl, but she didn't feel as scared as before. Maybe it was because the Lord she rode with had her stomach in knots, but it did not matter, she needed something to take her mind off the beast.

"So, my Lord, what are you scared off?" She asked, fidgeting in the saddle; It was rather uncomfortable.

"Me?" He laughed and she smiled.

"Yes. You know my fear, it's only fair that I know yours."

Robb paused in thought for a moment and Emily waited patiently for his reply. She took this moment to finally look down at the beast she sat on, feeling rather empowered now that she'd more or less faced her fear. She was still scared, of course, but she had to admit the animal was beautiful. Emily had always secretly loved horses, but her fear of an unpredictable and independent creature always scared her away from them. So, while she was a little angry towards the Lord for dragging her up onto the horse without warning, she inwardly thanked him for it.

"I suppose, becoming Lord of Winterfell." Robb finally replied, lightly shrugging his shoulders.

"You're not afraid of becoming Lord." Emily remarked and he looked back at her, only to receive a quick smack and a 'keep your eyes on the path' from Emily.

"I'm not?" He challenged.

"No." She stated, resting her chin on his shoulder. "You're afraid of the pressures that come with it. Not that I blame you, it is a lot for one man."

"I suppose you're right." He muttered.

"What else are you afraid of?" Emily asked, hoping to steer them away from the subject she knew he hated most.

"Love."

Emily leaned back slightly, her brows drawn and eyes narrowed. "Love?" She asked, wondering if she'd heard him correctly.

"Aye."

"Alright, I'll listen to this." She fidgeted once more and returned to her original position. "What is it that scares you, my Lord?"

"The very idea of it!" He exclaimed. "My mother told me about it when I was young, and ever since it's terrified me."

Emily perked up, slightly interested. "What did she tell you?"

He shook his head and looked away as he thought. "She told me that one day you could be fine, and the next it hits you, faster than a flying arrow. You feel sick and dizzy yet at the same time happy and alive. You're supposed to give everything and anything to one person and hope that they do not throw it back in your face? It sounds terrible."

"I am sure it is not all bad." Emily said, thoroughly amused. "You have someone that you can share all your thoughts with, that will never judge you and always be by your side. When you're with them everything slows down and all you can see is that person, the one you want to spend the rest of your years with. It is not so bad to fall in love, my Lord."

The horse slowed to a stop and Robb turned in his saddle, while she leaned back slightly. "Have you ever loved someone, Emily?" He asked.

"I have not, my Lord." She whispered, averting her eyes.

"One day, would you like to?" Emily gave him a small nod of confirmation. "Why?" He asked. He seemed so confused and frustrated that Emily almost felt sorry for him.

"I-it's a dangerous thing, My Lord, I know that. Love is as much a risk as..." She paused and searched her mind for an explanation. "As me getting on this horse. I was scared, you told me to trust you, and I did. I suppose there is not much of a difference between the two. When you do find it my Lord, there is no sure way to know how it will turn out. You just need to jump and hope that, when the time comes, they'll be ready to catch you."

When she was done, he did not speak, he only stared. They fell into a somewhat tense silence and all she could hear were birds and the rustling leaves, moving against each other from the force of the cold Northern air. Emily did not know how she felt at that moment. She felt a little bit nervous, or maybe it was excited, maybe she was feeling all at once. She couldn't recall a time where she'd felt it, until she finally realised that she had. That night came rushing back to her so quickly and so clearly that she could hear the music again, along with the sounds of laughter from the drunken men and women that surrounded them.

Robb moved one hand from the reigns and cautiously placed it on the side of her neck. He seemed hesitant to touch her without her saying anything, but Emily couldn't even find one word to say to him. She should have said 'no' or 'this isn't proper', but she didn't. If she was being completely honest with herself, she wasn't sure what to do. Emily had always been so occupied with her family, Qetsiyah, Demetrii, and other things that she'd never had time to wonder if a man liked her or not. Qetsiyah was the one who revelled in male attention, not her, and whenever Qetsiyah tried to tell her about her experiences with men Emily always shut her down, not wanting to her any of it. But now she wished she had, because a man was actually showing her a little affection and she had absolutely no idea what to do next.

"I-I...I don't..." Emily could do nothing but stutter as the Lord moved his face a little closer towards hers. Clearly, he was still giving her the opportunity to reject him, but she didn't know whether to say no or let him continue.

Thankfully, she did not have to say anything. Robb's horse neighed and shuffled back an inch or two, breaking them out of whatever situation they'd formerly been in. Robb quickly turned and took hold of the reigns once again, while Emily silently thanked the Gods and let her rational thought take over.

"W-we should go back." She suggested, taking a deep breath.

"I suppose so." He sounded disappointed, but Emily could not be sure.

~...~...~...~...~

"You are an absolute idiot!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"You _know _what I'm talking about!"

The next morning, Emily sat outside her cottage with Qetsiyah, explaining everything that had happened the day before. She didn't mention their discussion, she never did, but she did tell Qetsiyah about the small 'moment' she'd had with their Lord. Qetsiyah's reply, however, had been less than helpful. At first she'd been rather excited, asking multiple questions with a whispering tone like a gossiping old milk-maid, but once Emily told her the rest she became annoyed. And now, now she was shouting at her that she was an idiot.

"What was I supposed to do?!" Emily exclaimed. "Kiss him?"

"Yes!" Qetsiyah shouted back in reply, as though it were blatantly obvious. "Are you telling me that you just sat there like a fool?"

"I-I..." Emily trailed off into silence and Qetsiyah let out a loud groan.

"Emily, I will give you one piece of advice," Qetsiyah began, walking forward and taking both of Emily's hands into her own, "when an attractive man attempts to kiss you, you kiss him back. Understand?"

Emily rolled her eyes and said, "I know what to do. He did not kiss me, his horse interrupted whatever was about to happen." She then added, "And I am grateful!"

"Gods. Why?!"

"He is our Lord, Qetsiyah. He is not mine to kiss and never will be. He is the first born son of Eddard Stark and his future does not involve a pig-farmers daughter. It is best we just stay away from each other." Emily explained.

"No, no." Her red-headed friend objected quickly. "If anything, you should spend more time together. And not here in the wolfswood."

"What are you saying, Qetsiyah?" She asked worriedly, her stomach twisting once Qetsiyah grinned. "Tell me!" She demanded.

"I may have done something nice for you." Qetsiyah told her.

"What have you done?" Emily asked as her palms began to sweat.

Qetsiyah smiled sweetly and clasped her hands behind her back. "As you may have heard, the King is coming to Winterfell, along with the Queen, their children and a lot of others."

"Of course I know, Robb told me yesterday."

"_Well, _as it turns out, more servants are needed at the Castle-"

"Qetsiyah, tell me you didn't," Emily begged, praying to the gods that her assumptions were wrong.

"I got you a job, in the Castle! Isn't it exciting?!"

Emily stared wide-eyed at Qetsiyah, only one thought screaming out in her mind; _Gods help me._

* * *

Author's Note;

Hi readers! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, there was a little more Robb/Emily in this and I hope you liked it!

Please Review, Favourite, and Follow if you can. Thanks!


	8. VIII

**Chapter VIII**

Robb Stark sat at the table with his family, swallowing down a delicious piece of salted bacon. His mother and father sat in the middle, talking aimlessly about Gods-knew what. Sansa sat opposite the two, her back straightened and head held high, the way every noble-born lady should. Meanwhile Arya, anything but a little lady, slouched over her table and stuffed her mouth full, only pausing to take a large gulp of water. And then at the furthest part of the table, sat Bran and Rickon. Bran currently moped about how he was no good with the bow, while Rickon listened intently, fiddling with a nut as he usually did. Jon did not join them that morning, he'd come in once for a slice of toast or two, but swiftly made his exit afterwards. Robb knew that his mother must have been staring at him with that gaze again, otherwise he'd have not left in such a hurry. It hurt him how much his mother hated Jon, but there was nothing he could do. He'd tried many times to convince her to ease up on his half-brother, but she'd immediately rejected his attempts at conversation and walked away. It seemed nothing would demolish her hatred for the bastard.

While his family went about their normal routine, Robb's thoughts were currently on nothing but the pig-farmers daughter. They were due to meet again that afternoon and he could scarcely wait. At first it had been guilt that drove him to seek out the girl, guilt that he'd hurt her when she'd done nothing wrong. But once they'd started speaking, she'd had him in a transfixed state. He vividly remembered his name-day celebration and how he'd been so taken with her then, though he knew the wine and ale had him acting the way he did. Now, however, everything was different. He was no longer in a drunken stupor completely captivated by the stranger in the doe mask, instead he enjoyed his time spent with Emily, a pig-farmers daughter. Her status did not matter to him, nor the punishment she'd been falsely accused of, she'd been the best conversationalist he'd met since Jon. Robb found that he could tell her things he did not wish to tell others and he knew that she felt the same, if the things she spoke to him of where anything to go by. They had an understanding of sorts, and he did not want it to end.

"More water, my Lord?"

"No than-" Robb stopped as he glanced up at the servant girl and had to look once more; It couldn't be.

"Something wrong, My Lord?" She asked feigning innocence. It was clear that she was rather amused with his reaction.

"No, everything is fine." He'd finally gotten over the slight shock of seeing Emily in the Castle, in fact he now felt rather intrigued by it. He'd ask her later why she now worked in the Castle, but right now he wanted to have some fun with her. "More water would be lovely, thank you."

Emily bent slightly and poured more water into his cup, and he leaned back slightly. He knew full well that whatever he did to her in this room, it would all be in good fun, and the best part was that she could not strike him without anyone else seeing. So, with this in mind, he touched the back of her leg. It was light but with enough pressure that he knew she'd feel it. Her legs were covered by the skirts of her dress, so it was not too offensive.

Robb found his amusement heightened when she jumped at the touch. Emily moved back to stand fully and looked down at him, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth. It was not obvious to others but he could see her annoyance, it shined in her eyes.

"Anything else, My Lord?" She seethed, quickly glancing at the rest of his family.

"No, I think that will be all." He grinned, looking up at her.

Emily nodded and quickly left the hall, while his eyes followed her. He knew that he could not be so obvious, of course, since his family had no idea where he'd been sneaking off to the passed few moons. Theon had asked and Robb had lied, telling his friend that he was down in the whore-house. With Theon being Theon, he did not question anything, only gave Robb a small grin and clapped him on the back like a proud father to his son. Jon had gotten something a little closer to the truth, he'd been told that Robb was visiting a girl, and thankfully Jon left it at that. But the rest of his family? They had absolutely no idea, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"I'll be in the training yard." Robb said aimlessly. He did not care if they heard him or not, because in that moment his focus was solely on Emily.

It did not take him long to find her. She was outside in the courtyard, speaking to Qetsiyah. The red-headed girl saw him before Emily did and smirked, muttering a few words before rushing into the Castle, and leaving Emily alone.

"I thought we were meeting up later." He chuckled, however his laughter disappeared when an aching pain ran through the side of his head. "That hurt."

"Well, that's what happens when you touch me without asking." She replied simply, though a small smile came to her face afterwards. "Hello Robb."

He smiled and said, "Hello to you too, Emily. May I ask why you're here at my home?"

"It was Qetsiyah's idea." She replied, her smile faltering slightly. "She thought it would be good for me to get out of the house, and apparently this seemed the better way to do that." She then added meekly, "You're not angry with me, are you?"

"Why would I be angry?" He asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

Emily sighed. "We agreed to keep things secret between us, and away from our personal lives. My being here breaches the lines."

"If anything I am glad you're here, you can keep me sane." He reassured her and was glad when that lovely smile returned to her face.

"Make no mistake, My Lord, we are friends but I have a duty here." She playfully warned, a small glint in her eye.

"That is a shame, I was rather looking forward to having you all to myself." Robb knew he was testing the boundaries between them, but he could not help himself. Since their discussion the day before he had not been able to think of anyone else besides her. He knew how pathetic he sounded and he could only pray that she felt much the same.

Emily's eyebrows raised and she stared back at him. She didn't say anything at first and seemed to be having an internal conflict with herself. "I'm afraid that cannot happen, My Lord. I must go back now but we will speak soon." It sounded like a question so he nodded, and she took her leave a second after, heading the same way Qetsiyah had.

Robb narrowed his eyes and smiled slightly. Emily wasn't encouraging his behaviour, nor was she discouraging it. It seemed she was a little confused on what to do with herself. Either way, he liked her...a lot. It was not love, nor was it lust, well, maybe a little of lust. She was confusing, and he liked it.

~...~...~...~...~

Emily fastened the thin sheet on the furthest end of the mattress, then moving towards the other side and repeating the motion. She was, of course, completely dedicated to her new duties, but her mind continued to wander. She wasn't completely sure how to feel about Robb Stark, at least not anymore. When they'd been alone in the woods, it'd been nothing more than a friendly interaction, if she did not include the tense moment they'd shared the afternoon previous. But now that she was here, in his home, it seemed his tone had changed slightly. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, it was more than friendly. Maybe he'd gotten the wrong impression the day before, maybe she'd given off the aura that she was interested in pursuing more with him, and the worrying thing was that she didn't know if she didn't want that. They'd only been speaking for a few months now, and it had all been comfortable and nothing more than friendship. But now, now things were different. Their almost-kiss seemed to have opened up a whole new span of territory, one she was both uncomfortable with yet excited her. Emily also knew, however, that nothing could happen with them. He was a Lord, she a pig-farmers daughter and now a servant at Winterfell Castle. His mother would never allow it.

The door to the bed chamber opened and Emily turned. A young girl, maybe ten name-days old or older, stood in the open doorway. For a moment they both stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak. When it was clear that Emily would not say anything, the girl rolled her eyes and decided to be the first.

"Who're you?" She asked rather rudely.

"I'm the new servant, who're you?" Emily asked in the same manner.

"Arya Stark."

Emily recoiled suddenly and her eyes widened. She'd more or less insulted the daughter of the very Lady that'd given her this job. She had a sudden urge to smack herself but she refrained, instead opting to curtsy quickly. "I'm very sorry, My Lady, please forgive me."

"What for? You didn't do anything wrong." The little Lady insisted, closing the door behind her.

"I suppose," Emily trailed, a little unsure of herself. "Shouldn't you be in an embroidery lesson?"

The little Lady grimaced. "Gods no. Well, yes, I should be, but I'm not."

Emily nodded and continued with the bed, though she spoke as well. "Your mother would not be happy."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I might." She wouldn't really say anything, but the little Stark did not have to know that.

"And I might tell her that the new servant-girl is rude." Was Arya's quick reply.

Emily narrowed her eyes and said, "Touché." She turned once again, this time to fluff up the feathered pillows. "So, if embroidery is not something you enjoy, then what does make you happy?"

Arya sat down on the small stool that had been placed in the room, right in front of the table that held her mirror. "Archery." She replied.

"Archery?" Emily repeated. "Are you any good at it?"

"Very good." The little Lady said excitedly. "I could show you, if you want?"

"Maybe another day, as you can see I am rather occupied." Emily told her, gesturing towards the half-made bed.

"Can't you hurry up? It can't be that hard." Arya shrugged, her nose scrunched up.

Emily let her jaw drop with slight amusement and said, "Then by all means, my Lady, come and make the rest."

Not one to back down from a challenge apparently, the little Lady hopped down from her stool and came closer, taking the pillow from Emily's hands. Emily laughed in slight disbelief and moved away, leaning near the window.

"You've done this before," Emily noted, watching as Arya managed to perfectly manage her bedding. Since she was rather short, it took a lot of clambering up onto the bed to sort it out, but she did it none the less.

"Mother makes us clean our own rooms as a punishment, I do this a lot." The little Lady explained.

"Well, since you're doing so well, I should go and sort out the Lady Sansa's chambers." Emily declared, getting to her feet.

"You wont tell mother I'm in hiding, will you?" Arya asked, almost pleading.

"She won't hear it from me." Emily reassured and left the chamber.

~...~...~...~...~

Her first day was done, the hard part was over. Emily had to wonder how her mother and Qetsiyah did this so often, it was a rather draining task, but she supposed they were used to it by now. Maybe in time, she would also become accustomed to the duties, she had to. It was a good job to have, and the money they earned was rather good as well. Emily knew that with her having a job of her own, it would help back at the cottage, they would be able to afford more food and clothing for her family.

The sky had turned orange, almost red, and Emily knew it would be dark by the time she arrived home. She would be travelling alone, since Qetsiyah lived in the town and her mother worked late at the Castle, taking care of the nightly duties. It worried her slightly, having to travel home alone in the dark, but she had to remind herself; This was how it would be from now on. She would not leave the Castle and remain at home with her brothers, getting away from the cottage was a lovely breath of fresh air, and it reminded her that she could not stay cooped up in her cottage forever.

"Emily!"

She turned her head and found Robb approaching her. She quickly curtsied and bowed her head as he reached her, though this seemed to amuse him slightly.

"You're bowing to me now?" He chuckled and she rolled her eyes.

"I am in _your _Castle, it is normal for servants to bow to those they serve." She shrugged, resisting the urge to strike him...again.

"You're leaving?" It was more of a statement than a question, but she nodded anyway.

"My duties are done, I am free to go home now."

He nodded and looked down at her. "May I escort you?"

"I suppose so."

Robb nodded and turned, heading away from the gates entrance, and Emily had to narrow her eyes. What was he doing?

"The gates are this way!" She exclaimed, pointing behind her.

"But my horse is this way." Was his reply.

Emily shook her head and chased after him, following him into the stables. "I am not getting on that thing again." She said firmly.

Robb laughed and wandered through, searching for the pen that held his horse. "Really?"

"Really."

~...~...~...~...~

No more than a few moments later, Emily found herself in the very place she'd least wanted to be. They both strolled down the path atop Robb's horse, only this time, it was more uncomfortable. Robb had not bothered to saddle the horse, claiming that the stable-boy, Hodor, was not around, and that saddling took more time than it was worth. But every time the horse moved, Emily felt its back bones move underneath her rear, and she knew that once she climbed down she would be aching.

"You are infuriating." She told Robb, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"So I'm told." He said back, gripping the horses hair in his hands.

Emily rolled her eyes and leaned forward, resting the side of her head against his back. With her eyes closed, everything she heard seemed more clear. She could hear the owls hooting, the rustling of the leaves, even the hooves of Robb's horse colliding with the rocky path. Combined with his warmth and how safe she felt with her Lord, it was something more than relaxing. Emily wasn't sure why she felt so at ease with him, maybe it was because of how much time they'd spent with each other over the passed few weeks. She trusted him. It worried her so much, how she could trust him as quickly and easily as she had. She would even admit that she liked him more than Demetrii, whom she hadn't seen in a short while.

"Are you cold, Emily?" He whispered.

"Your cloak is serving its purpose." She muttered back.

After he'd taken his horse from the stable, Robb had caught on to her shivering. She'd forgotten to bring her cloak that morning, and the long sleeves of her dress did not give her much warmth. So, he'd given her his fur cloak, which she'd objected to at first, but was now thanking the Gods she'd taken it. She was sure that if she had not, she'd have frozen to death. After all, the nights in the North were much colder than the days.

The horse slowed to a stop and Emily released him, leaning back so that he could climb down. Robb easily clambered down from the large beast, and turned, gripping Emily's hips and helping her down. However, instead of letting her down as he had before, he caught her before she could slide.

"And what, pray tell, are you doing?" She asked, her left eyebrow lifting.

"Holding you." He replied simply, as though the action were innocent enough. Emily knew it was anything but.

Whatever had brought out this side of him, she had no idea, but she wished it hadn't. Emily still was not sure how she felt about him yet, and until she did she did not want him getting any ideas. And even if she did want him that way, it wasn't as though they could act on it. He was a Lord and it would not bode well for her to start something with him, it would only hurt the both of them in the end. Though that wasn't the only thing that had her stomach churning. What was worse was that she rather enjoyed the affection he was now showing her, in fact she loved it. Never had she had a man show her so much attention before, none that she'd ever taken note of anyway. Emily knew that before she let anything happen with him, she had to speak to Qetsiyah first. Her friend knew more about men than she, and could shed some light on the subject. It was just a matter of holding Robb at bay until then.

"This is not proper, My Lord." She swallowed. His strength was rather admirable, since his arms remained around her midsection still.

"Does it bother you?" He asked, though she was sure he already knew the answer.

"Please, do not make me do this Robb." That seemed to be enough of an answer, since he immediately let her slide down.

"You do not feel the same?" He asked, seeming dejected and embarrassed.

Emily shook her head frantically and said, "I do not know, please don't make me think of it. In two days, you will know my answer."

Thankfully, Robb nodded and left it at that. He leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss against her cheek. "I shall see you tomorrow then."

"Goodnight, My Lord."

"And you."

Emily watched as he swiftly climbed back on top of the horse and rode down the path, soon disappearing into the wood. She sighed wistfully and shook her head, damning Qetsiyah for dragging her to the celebration. Why couldn't her life be simple?

* * *

Author's Note;

Hi readers! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, there was a lot more Robb/Emily in this and I hope you liked it.

Please Review, Favourite, and Follow if you haven't already. Thanks!


	9. IX

Quick Author's Note;

Hello oh faithful readers! So, this is where the story starts to follow the story and becomes a little less AU, but there will be a lot of that in here. There will also be a lot more Robb/Emily bits in the following chapters as I'm working on their 'relationship'.

Anyway, please Review, Follow, or Favourite if you can. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter IX**

"Happy name-"

Emily jumped and slapped her hand over Qetsiyah's mouth, stopping her friend from speaking.

Once again, it was the dreaded day; Her name day. Every year it was more or less the same thing. Wake up, have something to eat, attend the normal household routine, go about the day, and then when her mother came home she and her family would celebrate. However, there was another small tradition she'd somehow fallen into, but the idea had not been her own. Since knowing her, it seemed Qetsiyah did everything in her power to get Emily drunk, whether it be going to a nearby tavern or sneaking sips of wine in the dark, it was always the same. But, since this year had turned out a little differently, Emily did _not _want to wake up tomorrow morning with an aching head and bad stomach. Only her family and Qetsiyah knew it was her name-day, and she was determined to keep it that way. She was sure that, should Robb find out, he would do something for her. It wasn't as though she were ungrateful, very far from it in fact, but her name-day was nothing more than a normal day, with the slight exception of the fact she'd been born on that very day. But, in hindsight, Emily was determined to go about her day in the same way she did all the others. And, later on when they'd finished their work, Qetsiyah could rant and moan about how boring she was.

"What is wrong with you?" Qetsiyah hissed, pushing her hand away. "It's your name-day!"

"Exactly." Emily groaned, praying that her friend would keep her voice low. "I just want to have a nice, normal day. Is that too much to ask for?"

"Yes." Qetsiyah stated, a small smile on her face. "Especially when you have me as a friend. So, will we drink tonight?"

Emily shook her head and said, "I'm afraid not."

The smile immediately fell from Qetsiyah's face. "Why not?!" She exclaimed, and Emily shushed her once more.

"_Because_," Emily stressed, "I have to come here tomorrow and I will not spend the morning moaning and groaning about the fact that my head hurts and I cannot keep my food down."

"So what?!"

Emily sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. Qetsiyah could not see that she wasn't like her. She didn't like to drink, or sneak out, or fool around with men she did not really know. They were opposites in each and every way and Emily knew that if Qetsiyah had the opportunity to drink, she would take it without a second thought, and deal with the repercussions in the morning. She would be more than happy to stay back home and spend a day away from her duties. But Emily? Well, she was not the same. She had to have some form of plan, a way to know exactly what could happen should she act in one way, and she knew that if she even tried to steer away from the clear path, she would lose her mind.

A loud 'whooshing' sound was heard and she looked to her right. At the farthest end of the courtyard, near the Castle, the Stark sons and bastard were training. The little Rickon straddled the fencing, watching his brothers train, while Robb stood closer to him. Then there was Jon, who seemed to be helping Bran on his bow wielding. Emily would never say it within ear-shot of any of the Stark children, Bran especially, but he was rather terrible at the bow.

"And what should our Lord Stark say, should he find out that you've been withholding vital information?" Qetsiyah whispered in her ear.

"My name-day is _not _a vital piece of information, Qetsiyah. Far from it, actually." Emily said back, though she frowned slightly. She and Robb hadn't spoken for three days, nothing had been said since that night, and she was not sure how she felt about it yet. On one hand, she was rather grateful, since she still did not have an answer for him. But on another note, she was rather saddened by it; She missed her friend.

"He still hasn't talked to you, has he?" Qetsiyah asked knowingly and Emily shook her head. "Maybe he's busy. I mean, he _is _the future Lord of Winterfell, I'm sure he does not mean to be so...distanced."

Emily was thankful that Qetsiyah was trying her best to cheer her up, but it did not help. She wondered if pushing him away the days previous had been a mistake. But she knew it hadn't been her fault, all she'd asked for was a few days to clear her mind, to figure out what she wanted from their strange relationship, it wasn't as though she'd openly rejected his advances. Emily had contemplated being the first to speak, but she'd immediately demolished the thought. If he did not want to speak to her, then what was the point of trying? She would wait until he was ready.

~...~...~

Emily walked out into the courtyard and shivered, rubbing her arms for warmth. She'd been sent home early by her mother, who'd insisted that she should not work so much on her name-day. Emily had, of course, put up a bit of a fight, telling her mother that they needed the money and that Lady Stark would not be happy with her leaving so soon, but she'd instantly been reassured by her mother, who said that she herself would take over the rest of Emily's duties. But it wasn't just the money that Emily was concerned about, it was the fact that she'd have nothing to do for the rest of the day, and when she had nothing to do, her mind tended to wander. Sometimes, she thought so hard and so much that her mind spun with bad thoughts. It was yet another annoying habit of hers that she could not stop, and at least when she was working she'd been concentrating on other things, and not things that made her sad or uncomfortable.

"Emily!"

She jumped slightly and rolled her eyes, turning around. "You scared me." She stated.

Qetsiyah smiled sheepishly and said, "I'm sorry. I have to take you somewhere." She then grasped Emily's hand and dragged her away from the gates into Winterfell Castle.

"Where are we going?" Emily asked worriedly, as Qetsiyah dragged her through a guarded archway. The guards briefly looked their way, but said nothing.

"It's a surprise." Was all her friend said back.

At first, she'd been completely confused as to where Qetsiyah was dragging her. But when the ground became softer and they began walking into a small wood, Emily finally realized where it was they were going. And she wasn't happy about it.

"Qetsiyah, we shouldn't be here."

The Godswood was only to be used by the high-born's, so in this case, The Starks. It was not for the peasants and servants and she was sure Qetsiyah knew that. Emily could not help but wonder what would happen should someone find out. The guards had seen them come in, and anyone could tell from their clothes alone that they were not noble, so they were sure to get into trouble.

"Qetsiyah." Emily said firmly, and her friend finally stopped. "We should not be in here."

"You worry too much, Emily." Qetsiyah grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I worry enough for the both of us, since you never worry about _anything_."

Qetsiyah laughed and nodded, looking quickly behind her. "I'm afraid this is where I leave you."

"What?" Emily asked, making sure she'd her friend correctly.

"I've played my part in this. Now, keep walking straight ahead and you'll find it."

Qetsiyah walked passed her to leave and Emily turned quickly, her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Find what?!" She asked loudly.

"You'll know when you see it."

Emily watched as Qetsiyah disappeared back the way they'd came and she turned slowly, taking small steps through the wood. It was a much different than the Wolfswood she was so used to. It was quieter, if that were possible, and somehow more beautiful. She could not hear the cracking of twigs being stepped on by larger animals, or the noise of ruffling leaves on the floor of the wood; There was nothing. It was rather worrying, for so many reasons, and she kept wondering what would happen if someone found her. Would she be whipped again? She hoped not, she wasn't sure if she could handle another lashing. Maybe she would lose her work in the Castle, and have to stay home to take care of her brothers, like she had so many times before. Emily didn't like the thought of being caught and punished, so she went to turn and leave. At least, that was what she aimed to do, until she saw it.

The first thing she saw was the small pond, which seemed rather odd considering she was in the middle of a wood. But soon enough, her eyes travelled towards the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. It was whiter than snow, and while it was not as large as the other trees, it stood out all on its own. The leaves, she found, were as red as blood, and moved with the wind. She knew full well what it was, she'd heard so much about it but had never seen it with her own eyes; Not until now. She wondered if Qetsiyah had ever seen it, or her mother, but she knew that while her friend may have snuck in to have a look, her mother had surely never seen the magnificent tree.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Emily jumped and her stomach churned. She looked back and found herself looking at the very last person she thought she'd find in the wood.

"That is one word for it." She told him, turning to the tree once more. She walked forward and avoided the pond, instead resting her hand against the base of the tree.

"Do you know what it is?" Robb asked.

"I don't know what it is called, but I've been told stories about it." Emily replied, and she soon spotted something she hadn't noticed before. "Is that a face?"

It was a little disturbing, to say the least. It had a nose, and eyes, and lips. But that wasn't the thing that scared her. The eyes, which seemed to be closed, had red sap dripping down from the corners, the same colour as the leaves. The same substance came out of the mouth, that was open. She wondered how anyone could come to this place, knowing that the frightening face was carved into the magnificent tree.

"It is said that the children of the forest carved the faces into the trees, as a way to pray to their Gods. I'm sure there are many more Heart Trees North of the Wall." He told her.

Emily nodded and turned away from the tree, instead choosing to face him. "You've been avoiding me, haven't you?" She asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Not for the wrong reasons, I assure you." He said, coming closer. "Were you worried?"

"I..." Emily trailed off into a small sigh. What was she supposed to tell him? That she missed him? "A little." She finally admitted.

Robb chuckled. "There is nothing to worry about." He then turned serious. "I thought that if I gave you some space, then it would be easier for you to decide."

Emily smiled shyly and looked down. He hadn't been avoiding her because she'd done something wrong, or because he did not want to wait for her answer. Robb had stayed away for her benefit, so that it was a lot easier for her to figure out whether or not she wanted to pursue something different with him. And while it was a rather cruel way to do it, it had helped her decide. Now all she had to do was tell him.

"That is rather sneaky, My Lord."

"I have something for you." He announced, pulling something from his pocket. "And I do hope you'll like it."

"Why-"

"Qetsiyah."

It was one word, but it had a large effect on Emily. She guessed that her friend had told Robb about her name-day, and now he'd gotten her something.

"I'm going to kill her." Emily seethed, shaking her head.

"There is no need for that." Robb laughed, clearly amused. "I'd have found out one way or another, do not blame her."

Emily nodded, but remained angry with Qetsiyah. "So, what do you have for me?"

Robb opened his hand and Emily gaped. It was something she would never be able to afford, no matter how much money she saved from her work in the Castle. The chain was pure silver, along with the small symbol that hung from the bottom. It was a circle full of swirls that somehow connected to each other. And while she liked it, she wasn't sure if she could ever wear it. Emily had been deemed a thief by many, and if they saw her with a necklace as expensive looking as the one Robb now held out to her, she was sure someone wold turn her in for being a thief and take away the gift. After all, she couldn't very well tell people that their Lord had given it to her as a name-day present.

"I was a little stuck on what I should give to you. I thought of a fur pelt, then a dress, or maybe something else." He was speaking but she could not look away from the glimmering object in his hand. "Do you like it?"

"I-I..." She didn't know what to say. How could she tell him that she loved it, but that she could not wear it?

"If not, I could get you something else,"

"No." She objected. "It's perfect."

Robb narrowed his eyes. "But?"

"_But, _I cannot accept this. What if someone sees it? I could never afford something like this and I am not the only one who knows it."

"Then hide it." He pressed, and she shook her head. "Emily, this is a gift, and anyone who judges you will answer to me. Please, let me see you wear it."

Emily sighed. She could not reject his gift, it wouldn't be right. Clearly he'd gone through some trouble to get it for her, and from how it looked she knew it must have cost him, so how could she say no to it? Maybe if she hid it in her dress no one would see.

"Alright." She finally relented and he smiled in relief.

When he stepped forward and took both ends of the necklace in-between his fingers, she turned so that she once again faced the Heart Tree. Robb moved his arms and the charm at the end of the pendant landed between her breasts. It was could and she flinched, raising her hand to hold it away from her skin. Soon enough she felt it loosen and he moved back, while she turned again to face him. Emily looked down and smiled, letting the charm go once she felt it had warmed slightly. It was foreign to her, the feeling of something around her neck, but in some ways it was also nice.

"It's beautiful." She commented, looking back up at him.

"Aye, it is."

They fell into silence then and Emily had to look away. It was the same kind of silence they'd had a few days ago, when they'd both been on the back of his horse and he'd leaned in. And, like then, he did the same in that moment. One hand on the side of her neck, the other lightly taking hold of her left hip. For a moment, he just looked at her, and an all too familiar feeling returned. Her stomach churned, her palms sweat, and she felt a sudden urge to move closer. But she couldn't, she needed him to be the first to move, because she was much too scared to.

"Have you made your decision yet?" He whispered, closer than he'd ever been to her.

"I have."

"And?" He pressed, slowly leaning in.

"And I think sneaking around will be much harder now."

That was all he needed to hear, because in that short second, he'd crushed his lips against hers. And it was then that Emily knew, her life was about to change. She only hoped it was for the better.


End file.
